On A Symphony Of Beethoven by Frances Anne Kemble

Deal Score0

Terrible music, whose strange utterance
Seemed like the spell of some dread conscious trance,
Motionless misery, impotent despair,
With beckoning visions of things dear and fair,
Restless desire, sharp poignant agonies,
Soft, thrilling, melting, tender memories,
Struggle and tempest, and around it all
The heavy muffling folds of some black pall
Stifling it slowly, a wild wail for life,
Sinking in darkness—a short passionate strife
With hideous fate, crushing the soul to earth,
Sweet snatches of some melancholy mirth,
A creeping fear, a shuddering dismay,
Like the cold dawning of some fatal day,
Dim faces growing pale in distant lands,
Departing feet, and slowly severing hands,
Voices of love, speaking the words of hate,—
The mockery of a blessing come too late,
Loveless and hopeless life, with memory,—
This curse that music seemed to speak to me.

We will be happy to hear your thoughts

Leave a reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Best Selling BooksGrab Now!
+ +