Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

During Music

O COOL unto the sense of pain
That last night's sleep could not destroy;
O warm unto the sense of joy,
That dreams its life within the brain.
What though I lean o'er thee to scan
The written music cramped and stiff;—
'Tis dark to me, as hieroglyph
On those weird bulks Egyptian.
But as from those, dumb now and strange,
A glory wanders on the earth,
Even so thy tones can call a birth
From these, to shake my soul with change.
O swift, as in melodious haste
Float o'er the keys thy fingers small;
O soft, as is the rise and fall
Which stirs that shade within thy breast. 

1. Returning To Brussels
2. The House of Life. Sonnet 80. From Dawn to Noon
3. The House of Life. Sonnet 82. Hoarded Joy
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 89. The Trees of the Garden
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 72. The Choice - 2

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