To Nannette Falk-auerbach

Sidney Lanier

Oft as I hear thee, wrapt in heavenly art,
 The massive message of Beethoven tell
With thy ten fingers to the people's heart
 As if ten tongues told news of heaven and hell, --
Gazing on thee, I mark that not alone,
 Ah, not alone, thou sittest:  there, by thee,
Beethoven's self, dear living lord of tone,
 Doth stand and smile upon thy mastery.
Full fain and fatherly his great eyes glow:
 He says, "From Heaven, my child, I heard thee call
(For, where an artist plays, the sky is low):
 Yea, since my lonesome life did lack love's all,
  In death, God gives me thee:  thus, quit of pain,
  Daughter, Nannette! in thee I live again."

Index + Blog :

Poetry Archive Index | Blog : Poem of the Day