VAGRANT VERSE

Southland Times, Issue 19435, 26 December 1924, Page 4

VAGRANT VERSE

PADEREWSKI PLAYING. The light shines full a moment; then as noon Had rushed at once to twilight, all is dim, The countless hands, like cymbals, clash applause In harsh, untuned ecstasies of praise And in mid-stage he stands. . . . Keys of ivory : far and clear Ivory horns from Elfland blowing, Airy ride of fairy huntsmen Through the vale like breezes, goinfc Down the haunted mountain passes Lighter than the waving grasses, O’er the babbling brooklet’s pebbles Lighter than its flute like trebles, O’er the brink of sedgy hollow Lighter than the wing of swallow, Fronds of palms and hilltops scorning Lighter than the feet of morning. . . . Keys of ivory: near and shrill Ivory horns of warriors blowing, Furious charge of knights in armour O’er the hills like whirlwinds, going Like the paladins to battle— Hauberks clang and scabbards rattle—* Up the paths of rocky ledges Like the anvil clash of sledges, Down to valleys shelving under Like the torrent and the thunder Crashing headlong, form on form, Crested billows of the storm! The keys are silent, and the master site Oblivious of the hands that sing his praise In open diapason; for he sees His countrymen in flight. . . . Slowly he rises, turns to greet the throng, And slowly sinks, an old king on his throne. —John Robert Moore, in “Symphonjai and Songp.”