Lulled Care to sleep, bade Grief and Strife be mute, And calmed the heart by Pain and Passion stirred; Men called her Dryad, Zephyr, Sylvan Bird, She led them by such pleasant, tranquil route, O'erhung with blossom-bough and trellised fruit, To haunts where naught but dreamland sounds are heard. To-day, you play along that path of bliss, Dream-sandalled, I am wooed afar, afar To where your strains are echoed in a star That slowly sinks beyond a crimson crest Play on my soul knows nothing else but this: The calm, the perfect calm of raptured rest. Clarence Urmy. ON SIVORI'S VIOLIN A dryad's home was once the tree |