Second Movement
POEMS
by ROLFE HUMPHRIES
THE outward music ceases; all that sound,
That rush of sound, is hushed, breaks off, is mute.
In this dead sea the deaf and dumb are drowned
With drum and trumpet, violin and flute.
Silence, opaque, oppressive, fills the air,
Falls from the sky, and rises from the ground,
Immediate and appalling: tell me, where
Has music vanished? how shall it be found?
That rush of sound, is hushed, breaks off, is mute.
In this dead sea the deaf and dumb are drowned
With drum and trumpet, violin and flute.
Silence, opaque, oppressive, fills the air,
Falls from the sky, and rises from the ground,
Immediate and appalling: tell me, where
Has music vanished? how shall it be found?
Hark! From the hidden inner instrument
Something is playing music in reply:
Passion and patience and perception blent
In full accord, affirmative and high.
Hearing this reassurance, how can I
Doubt, any longer, where the music went?
Something is playing music in reply:
Passion and patience and perception blent
In full accord, affirmative and high.
Hearing this reassurance, how can I
Doubt, any longer, where the music went?