A Musical Critic Anticipates Eternity
If Someone, Something, somehow (as Man dreams)—
Some architectonic spirit-strength omniscient,—
Has wrought the clouded stars and all that seems
World, Universe, and Life (poor, blind, deficient)—
If this be thus, and Music thrills the spheres,
And I go thither when my feet have trod
Past Death,—what chords might ecstasize my ears!
What oratorios of Almighty God!
Yet, seeing that all goes not too well on earth
In this harmonic venture known as Time,
I'm not too optimistic of the worth
Of problematic symphonies sublime:
And, though I listen aureoled and meek
To compositions by the Holy Trinity,
Who knows but I may write (in my critique)—
‘The music was devoid of all divinity!’
Some architectonic spirit-strength omniscient,—
Has wrought the clouded stars and all that seems
World, Universe, and Life (poor, blind, deficient)—
If this be thus, and Music thrills the spheres,
And I go thither when my feet have trod
Past Death,—what chords might ecstasize my ears!
What oratorios of Almighty God!
Yet, seeing that all goes not too well on earth
In this harmonic venture known as Time,
I'm not too optimistic of the worth
Of problematic symphonies sublime:
And, though I listen aureoled and meek
To compositions by the Holy Trinity,
Who knows but I may write (in my critique)—
‘The music was devoid of all divinity!’
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