Scan 21

Songs of my violin, 1901

27 lines. Read by computer on 3 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.

1III.

3All day the sun made of this place a nest

4While, like a bird that broods, it gently pressed

5Its golden heat into these shells of sound;

6Then with its west'ring cadence came a flush

7Of sunset gleams, aslant the evening's hush,

8And settled on the fiddles' amber ground.

10IV.

12And there they glimmer still, subdued yet clear,—

13As memory glows with dreams that once were dear,—

14And answer like an echo to the sun,

15With mellow yellows and with ruddy reds,

16And all the finer glints that sunset sheds

17Through stained-glass windows when the day is done.

19V.

21The lines are miniatures of nature's curves,

22Of those long, limber, God-begotten swerves,

23That lure the eye along the lonely strand.

24The bend of lilies and the stoop of trees,

25The fountain's arching to a Summer's breeze

26Are simulated by the Master's hand.

The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.