Oft as I hear thee, wrapt in heavenly art, <br /> The massive message of Beethoven tell <br />With thy ten fingers to the people's heart <br /> As if ten tongues told news of heaven and hell, -- <br />Gazing on thee, I mark that not alone, <br /> Ah, not alone, thou sittest: there, by thee, <br />Beethoven's self, dear living lord of tone, <br /> Doth stand and smile upon thy mastery. <br />Full fain and fatherly his great eyes glow: <br /> He says, "From Heaven, my child, I heard thee call <br />(For, where an artist plays, the sky is low): <br /> Yea, since my lonesome life did lack love's all, <br /> In death, God gives me thee: thus, quit of pain, <br /> Daughter, Nannette! in thee I live again."<br /><br />Sidney Lanier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-nannette-falk-auerbach/
