Classic Poem

Fourteen years old —
And in the study-hall,
Broad and unfurnished, at the school I stayed
Alone and friendless, though some other lads
Were with me. — It was six o'clock, but we
Were kept till eight. —
It was October's close,
And the first chill — and down the garden walks
The tossing trees were shaking off their robes;
Amid the rustle of dead leaves, a hush
More silent than a hush, — amid the sway
Of fluttered curtains, struck the deep-voiced clock
The hour of six —
The class in violin —
Adown the staircase broad, the broken notes
Of tuning — then, O God, arose and lifted me
To heights undreamt of — trembling, exquisite
Sweetness and bitterness — a pure nocturne —
Chopin, my brother, oh, my brother, now
For twenty years I bear within my heart
Your melody divine!