112
CHOPIN.
Ah! but the exquisite strain,
Sinking to pathos so sweet!
Is life then a lie and a cheat?
Hark to the hopeless refrain!
Sinking to pathos so sweet!
Is life then a lie and a cheat?
Hark to the hopeless refrain!
Comes a shock like the voice of a soul
Lost to good, to all beauty and joy,
Led alone by the powers that destroy,
And fighting with fiends for control.
Lost to good, to all beauty and joy,
Led alone by the powers that destroy,
And fighting with fiends for control.
Drops a chord like the grave's first clod.
Then again toss the waves of caprice,
Wild, delicate, sweet, with no peace,
No health, and no yielding to God.
Then again toss the waves of caprice,
Wild, delicate, sweet, with no peace,
No health, and no yielding to God.
O Siren, that charmest the air
With this potent and passionate spell,
Sad as songs of the angels that fell,
Thou leadest alone to despair!
With this potent and passionate spell,
Sad as songs of the angels that fell,
Thou leadest alone to despair!
What troubles the night? It grows chill—
Let the weird, wild music be;
Fronts us the infinite sea
And Nature is holy and still.
Let the weird, wild music be;
Fronts us the infinite sea
And Nature is holy and still.
