6
MUSIC IN A CROWD
They were a Vision, though. And are these real,
These men and women, moving as in sleep,
Who, smiling, gesture to the same Ideal,
For which the music makes me weep?
These men and women, moving as in sleep,
Who, smiling, gesture to the same Ideal,
For which the music makes me weep?
Have they my longings for that other world
New to them yet? I grant that Music's swell
Is like the sea; they may be thither hurled
By storms that thunder and compel;
New to them yet? I grant that Music's swell
Is like the sea; they may be thither hurled
By storms that thunder and compel;
Or, like those voyagers in the land of streams,
Glide through its languid air, its languid wave,
To learn that Here and There are but two dreams,
That end in Nothing and the Grave!
Glide through its languid air, its languid wave,
To learn that Here and There are but two dreams,
That end in Nothing and the Grave!
