Fiddler's Farewell/Paganini's Violins

by Leonora Speyer

Paganini's Violins

(Genoa)

All April's larks in her most lavish skyKnow less of song than these. O mournful two,Birds of Cremona, what shall rouse in youThe jocund venture of your keen-edged cry?Like carrier-doves, dismissed, unwinged, you lieIn dusty fame, your loosened strings untrueTo any key, hang limp as grasses doAfter the long long drought when meadows die.

This is no mood for lordly violins,These mellow masters in their disarrayBehind museum doors, these gypsy kings!I'd set them singing, tucked beneath the chinsOf fiddler-folk whose fingers know the way,Prancing like peacocks up the four gay strings!