Of all the waltzes the great Strauss wrote, <br />mad with melody, rhythm--rife <br />From the very first to the final note, <br />Give me his "Artist's Life!" <br /> <br />It stirs my blood to my finger ends, <br />Thrills me and fills me with vague unrest, <br />And all that is sweetest and saddest blends <br />Together within my breast. <br /> <br />It brings back that night in the dim arcade, <br />In love's sweet morning and life's best prime, <br />When the great brass orchestra played and played, <br />And set our thoughts to rhyme. <br /> <br />It brings back that Winter of mad delights, <br />Of leaping pulses and tripping feet, <br />And those languid moon-washed Summer nights <br />When we heard the band in the street. <br /> <br />It brings back rapture and glee and glow, <br />It brings back passion and pain and strife, <br />And so of all the waltzes I know, <br />Give me the "Artist's Life." <br /> <br />For it is so full of the dear old time-- <br />So full of the dear friends I knew. <br />And under its rhythm, and lilt, and rhyme, <br />I am always finding--you.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/artist-s-life/
