Music.

1.     I pant for the music which is divine,     My heart in its thirst is a dying flower;     Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine,     Loosen the notes in a silver shower;     Like a herbless plain, for the gentle rain,     I gasp, I faint, till they wake again.     2.     Let me drink of the spirit of that sweet sound,     More, oh more, - I am thirsting yet;     It loosens the serpent which care has bound     Upon my heart to stifle it;     The dissolving strain, through every vein,     Passes into my heart and brain.     3.     As the scent of a violet withered up,     Which grew by the brink of a silver lake,     When the hot noon has drained its dewy cup,     And mist there was none its thirst to slake -     And the violet lay dead while the odour flew     On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue -     4.     As one who drinks from a charmed cup     Of foaming, and sparkling, and murmuring wine,     Whom, a mighty Enchantress filling up,     Invites to love with her kiss divine...