All eyes upon him centred, motionless,
Yet tensely watchful, vividly aware,
He stands an instant waiting. In the air
His mystic wand, uplifted, seems to bless
The Silence, while it calls to readiness
Forces that overwhelming Silence there,
Shall in its stead give Sound so sweet and rare
As must its every parting pang redress.
Magician and enchanter, he doth hold
In his fine hand tones, accents, manifold,
Interpreting the gods to mortal men:
His are the nerves that vitalize the rest;
The central heart of all beats in his breast;
Through him the very dead revive and speak again.