Poems (Meynell, 1921)/A Shattered Lute

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For other versions of this work, see A Shattered Lute.

London: Burns Oates & Washbourne Ltd., page 41

A SHATTERED LUTE

I TOUCHED the heart that loved me as a player
Touches a lyre. Content with my poor skill,
No touch save mine knew my beloved (and still
I thought at times: Is there no sweet lost air


Old loves could wake in him, I cannot share?)
O he alone, alone could so fulfil
My thoughts in sound to the measure of my will
He is gone, and silence takes me unaware.


The songs I knew not he resumes, set free
From my constraining love, alas for me!
His part in our tune goes with him; my part


Is locked in me for ever; I stand as mute
As one with vigorous music in his heart
Whose fingers stray upon a shattered lute.