THE "UNFINISHED" SYMPHONY
O music of divine imagining!
Does he not hear you in his dreams to-night?
Can you no wonder to his spirit bring—
And no delight?
His love created you; his hopes, his fears,
Are poignant in these tones, surmounting death—
These melodies that dim the eyes with tears,
And snatch the breath! . . .
And can he longer sleep, nor note this strain
Whose magic enters now, with lovelier art
That like a benediction thrills the brain
And fills the heart?
Ah, not to one shall all earth's joys belong!
So have the gods ordained, whom we obey,
Lest mortal men should deem themselves as strong,
As blest as they.
On Schubert, out of love, the ecstasy
That wrote this godlike music they conferred:
To us they gave to hear the symphony
He never heard!