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Music! Unveiled hast thou another sphere;
And over seas of azure clear,
On wings now slow, now fleet,
Thou comest. Ah! my heart doth beat
To rhythmic sounds unknown before,
My feet press hard upon the shore
Of wide and silvery sea,
Acrose whose waves thou callest me.
Thy murmur sweet falls on mine ear,
And then with notes that ever rise,
Thy thundering tones assail the skies
And, sinking once again all low,
Thy martial strain grows soft and slow.
I feel its meaning, almost seize,
And then implore on bended knees
That thou wilt make thy raptures clear,
That thou wilt bring thy sirens near.


But as I grasp at joys unknown,
New beauties flash--the others flown.
Faster they come! I hold my breath,
Lest silvery sounds, so sweet, mean death.


This, Music, is thy shining sea,
Whose gentle waves roll in to me
With sounds too sweet for mortal ear,
With notes too dear for men to hear.
Upon this shore of thine I stand
And, longing, look for unseen strand
Whose verge is fair and far away,
Unfathomed save by passion's ray.


Away! I'll leave the world behind
And launch my bark, that shore to find!