Explore "The House of Music" by Francis Sherman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Such space there is, such endless breadth of time / Between me and my world of yesterday, / I half forget what sounds these be that stray / About my chamber, and grow and fall and climb.
Listen! -- that sweet reiterated chime, / Doth it not mark some body changed to clay?
That last great chord, some anguish far away?
Hark! harmony ever now and faultless rhyme.
O Soul of mine, among these lutes and lyres, / These reeds, these golden pipes, and quivering strings, / Thou knowest now that in the old, old years / We who knew only one of all desires / Came often even to music's furthest springs -- / To pass, because their waters gleamed like tears.