Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume VI. Fancy. 1904. | | | | Poems of Sentiment: V. The Arts | | The Cello | | Richard Watson Gilder (1844–1909) |
| | | WHEN late I heard the trembling cello play, | |
| In every face I read sad memories | |
| That from dark, secret chambers where they lay | |
| Rose, and looked forth from melancholy eyes. | |
| So every mournful thought found there a tone | 5 |
| To match despondence: sorrow knew its mate; | |
| Ill fortune sighed, and mute despair made moan; | |
| And one deep chord gave answer, “Late,—too late.” | |
| Then ceased the quivering strain, and swift returned | |
| Into its depths the secret of each heart; | 10 |
| Each face took on its mask, where lately burned | |
| A spirit charmed to sight by music’s art; | |
| But unto one who caught that inner flame | |
| No face of all can ever seem the same. | | | | |
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