[Composed, when 74 years old, for
a Polish lady, who excelled in playing on the pianoforte.]
PASSION brings reason--who can
An anguish'd heart whose loss hath
been so great?
Where are the hours that fled so swiftly by?
In vain the fairest thou didst
gain from fate;
Sad is the soul, confused the enterprise;
The glorious world, how on the
sense it dies!
In million tones entwined for evermore,
Music with angel-pinions hovers
To pierce man's being to its inmost core,
Eternal beauty has its fruit to
The eye grows moist, in yearnings blest reveres
The godlike worth of music as of tears.
And so the lighten'd heart soon
learns to see
That it still lives, and beats,
and ought to beat,
Off'ring itself with joy and willingly,
In grateful payment for a gift
And then was felt,--oh may it constant prove!--
The twofold bliss of music and of love.