05.05.2012, 16:26
The Eavesdropper
I WALKED, said one, about a burial-place
One recent morn, and from a grave up-thrown
I saw an earth-stained heap of crumbled bone,
Which once was he who sang with power and grace.
Ah no! another said, in nought so base
Doth he survive: 'tis in those songs alone
Wherewith he made the hearts of men his own
That all that yet endures of him we trace. -
Then kindliest laughter, full of sweet content,
Around them broke (which yet they could not hear),
As he they spoke of lingered in his work
To catch their talk: as soul to body near,
Within his heavenly ambush he did lurk,
And smiling heard their sad, wise argument.
I WALKED, said one, about a burial-place
One recent morn, and from a grave up-thrown
I saw an earth-stained heap of crumbled bone,
Which once was he who sang with power and grace.
Ah no! another said, in nought so base
Doth he survive: 'tis in those songs alone
Wherewith he made the hearts of men his own
That all that yet endures of him we trace. -
Then kindliest laughter, full of sweet content,
Around them broke (which yet they could not hear),
As he they spoke of lingered in his work
To catch their talk: as soul to body near,
Within his heavenly ambush he did lurk,
And smiling heard their sad, wise argument.