And his affections dark as Erebus: music! - Mark the William Shakespeare. CHORIC SONG (From "The Lotos-Eaters") There is sweet music here that softer falls Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. Alfred Tennyson. MUSIC A Fragment I pant for the music which is divine, Let me drink of the spirit of that sweet sound, More, O more! I am thirsting yet, It loosens the serpent which care has bound The dissolving strain, through every vein, 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 odor flew On the wings of the wind o'er the waters blue, |