Classic Poem

O bright-souled brother from the Fatherland!
On thy broad brow we cannot fail to see
How royally Cecilia dowered thee
With scepter of a more than king's command!
We are but subjects as we see thee stand,
Potent with music as a summer tree,
While low, Æolian “Airs from Hungary”
Make our hearts flame from embers they have fanned!

And now we part; across the bank of flowers
We look farewell with music's mutual glance;
Soon shall the chorus of the care-worn Hours
Replace the strains that lately did entrance;
Yet ne'er shall die the echoes of thy bow,
Nor from our hearts cans't thou, Wilhelmj, go!