O COOL unto the sense of pain <br />That last night's sleep could not destroy; <br />O warm unto the sense of joy, <br />That dreams its life within the brain. <br />What though I lean o'er thee to scan <br />The written music cramped and stiff;— <br />'Tis dark to me, as hieroglyph <br />On those weird bulks Egyptian. <br />But as from those, dumb now and strange, <br />A glory wanders on the earth, <br />Even so thy tones can call a birth <br />From these, to shake my soul with change. <br />O swift, as in melodious haste <br />Float o'er the keys thy fingers small; <br />O soft, as is the rise and fall <br />Which stirs that shade within thy breast.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/during-music/
