Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 4. 10. The Violin

Before the listening world behold him stand;
⁠     The warm air trembles with his passionate play;
     ⁠Their cheers shower round him like the ocean spray
     ⁠Round one who waits upon the stormy strand.
Their smiles, sighs, tears all are at his command;
⁠     And now they hear the trump of judgment-day,
⁠     And now one silver note to heaven doth stray
⁠     And fluttering fall upon the golden sand.
But like the murmur of the distant sea
⁠     Their loud applause, and far off, faint, and weak
⁠     Sounds his own music to him, wild and free—
Far from the soul of music that doth speak
⁠     In wordless wail and lyric ecstasy
     ⁠From that good viol prest against his cheek.