AFTER THE CONCERT.
THE music still throbbed in the arches,
And thrilled in the hearts of the throng;
Like echoes from old battle marches
Or dreams in the drift of a song;
And thrilled in the hearts of the throng;
Like echoes from old battle marches
Or dreams in the drift of a song;
The night was as dark as a sorrow
That knows never respite or cheer;
The rain bode a sunless to-morrow
And everything outward was drear:
That knows never respite or cheer;
The rain bode a sunless to-morrow
And everything outward was drear:
Still music within us kept sobbing,
A quivering pleasure and pain;
The notes of the orchestra throbbing
In time with the wavering rain.
A quivering pleasure and pain;
The notes of the orchestra throbbing
In time with the wavering rain.
A light in the door downward flashing,
Through darkness and rain-drops and mist,
Lent glory to gloom, and the clashing
Great throng was too gay to resist
Through darkness and rain-drops and mist,
Lent glory to gloom, and the clashing
Great throng was too gay to resist
(38)