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qualis ubi cursor, Romae decus aurea fana designat, illustrans face culmina celsa tholi (quanta micant illic subitis incendia flammis, ingentis ut testudinis aureus ardet apex !), sic opus exsiluit: sic gloria parta laboris,

et visa adesse mentis est meta propinqua meae.

quid loquor? altera pars restat: naturaque rerum nostri laboris aemula, conscia facta sui, parturiebat et ipsa: solo miscerier aether,

ut terra se nuper polo iunxerat alta petens. splendores micuere novi, cessuraque nunquam summis coruscabat vaga stella cacuminibus, in speciem lunae stabilis vel sideris instarterra occupaverat polum; nil procul aut prope erat.

fallor? an et flammis aestuque oriuntur in ipso fervore candentes mero mirae hominum facies? has operante Deo genitabilis aura vocabit

in tecta quondam propria et hospitium placitum. praesentesque aliae, defunctae corporis usu,

aevum reviviscunt suo dulcius Elysio.

quod nunquam fuerat nunc incipit esse; quod est nunc et quod fuit, par est pari; laudor et ipse opifex.

F

All through my keys that gave their sounds to a wish of my soul,

All through my soul that praised as its wish flowed visibly forth,

All through music and me! For think, had I painted the whole,

Why, there it had stood, to see, nor the process so wonder-worth:

Had I written the same, made verse-still, effect proceeds from cause,

Ye know why the forms are fair, ye hear how the tale is told;

It is all triumphant art, but art in obedience to laws, Painter and poet are proud in the artist-list enrolled :

But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can,

Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are!

And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed

to man,

That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth

sound, but a star.

Consider it well: each tone of our scale in itself is

nought;

It is everywhere in the world-loud, soft, and all is

said:

Give it to me to use! I mix it with two in my

thought

And, there! Ye have heard and seen: consider and

bow the head!

Well, it is gone at last, the palace of music I reared; Gone! and the good tears start, the praises that come

too slow;

For one is assured at first, one scarce can say that he

feared,

That he even gave it a thought, the gone thing was

to go.

sic fieri iussi; parentiaque organa iussis dignas labore gratias a domino capiunt. quod meditatus eram, reddit tenor ille sonorum : sic per suos mecum modos Musa locuta mea est. non equidem invideo si qui pictoris ab arte

quod mente finxerunt opus subiciunt oculis, versibus aut doctis et munere Calliopeo

sensus latentes exprimunt: quod cecinere sonat, quod finxere manet; causamque effecta sequuntur. non hic locus miraculo est; arsque sui similem comprobat artificem victrix, sed lege magistra : vatum sacros in ordines sic via fit merito.

at nostrum Deus auget opus, lex unde profecta est quoque exitus omnes refert; quod iubet Ille ratum est. non alia datur arte, ut chordis una duabus

adiuncta chorda sideris ardeat in speciem. nam nihil est quod ubique sonat, grave seu sit acutum, ni nostra rebus praestat ars dulce ministerium. arte mea tria iuncta sonum miscentur in unum: lingua faveto, si quis haec audiit aut didicit !

ergo abiit domus alta, meae symphonia mentis.
dant lacrimae solacium; laus bona sera venit.
quam brevia haec et fluxa! nec auctor credidit ipse,
cum conderet felix opus, sic abitura brevi.

F 2

Never to be again! But many more of the kind

As good, nay, better perchance: is this your comfort

to me?

To me, who must be saved because I cling with my mind

To the same, same self, same love, same God: ay, what was, shall be.

Therefore to whom turn I but to Thee, the ineffable Name ?

Builder and maker, thou, of houses not made with

hands!

What, have fear of change from thee who art ever the same ?

Doubt that Thy power can fill the heart that Thy

power expands ?

There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before;

The evil is null, is nought, is silence implying sound; What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;

On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.

All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good, shall

exist;

Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good,

nor power

Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist

When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too

hard,

The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the

sky,

Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that he heard it once: we shall hear it by

and-by.

an gaudere iubes, quod plura creanda supersint? unus mihi est idemque amor, una petenda salus. est deus hoc mihi, quod fuerit, sine fine manere : ut plura fiant, nil moror: quod fuit, hoc maneat.

Te potius veneramur, inenarrabile Nomen.

quod condidisti Tu manet; miri opus aedifici. aeternum est quodcumque facis, qui semper es Idem. fit mens Tui capacior, numine plena Tuo. vivet eritque opus omne Tuum: nihil est, male quod fit nec interit quidquam boni: fit sine voce sonus; sunt bene quae bene erant: mala convertuntur in usum, formamque caelestis refert orbita fracta rotae.

sic maneat, quodcumque boni mens concipit olim,
sibique constet et sua permaneat specie.
exiit ut vox viva semel, sibi vindicat auctor
aeternitatem in ultimam quod brevis hora tulit.
excidit experiens vir: at altis excidit ausis,
spretaque humo tractus amor attigit aetherios.
audit enim vatis vocem Deus, audit amantis ;
auresque nostrae ceperint serius aut citius.

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