Hear Philomel within the moonlit grove, And tuneful shepherd piping to his love. Zitella Cocke. SCHUBERT'S (UNFINISHED) SYMPHONY The muffled sobbing of a storm-scourged sea; The laughter of young birch leaves, drenched with dew; The rapture creeping meadow grasses through; The matin chime of bluebells softly rung; The drowsy plaint drifting through August noons; The call of nightingales to August moons; The soft lament of withered walnut leaves; The memories of garnered barley sheaves; The song the heart sings when its lord is come; The thoughts whose exaltation strikes lips dumb; A soul's mute answer to a soul's mute call; The longings that are prayers-it voices all! Frances Bartlett. CHOPIN Calm is the close of the day, Without, in the twilight, I dream; Within it is cheerful and bright With faces that bloom in the light, And the cold keys that silently gleam. Then a magical touch draws near, |