Scan 77

Songs of my violin, 1901

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

1SONGS OF MY VIOLIN.

3III.

5Thou art the snow, my love!

6And if thy precious nearness ever melt,

7Upon the heart-space where it once was felt

8A rose will grow, my love!

10DREAM-ADAGIO FOR STRINGS AND FLUTE.

12BEGOTTEN 'neath the sign of three glad sharps,

13From its blue cradle in the Key of A,

14The firstling chord is weaned and launched in air,

15And there it poises like some far-flown bird

16That down-drops on quiescent, outstretched wings.

17Then comes the misty morning of the theme,

18The murmurous suspense of things to come;

19A rustling like the waking of the leaves;

20A droning like the matin of a bee

21Before confession at the wayside rose.

22And then, aslant the haze of muted strings,

23There steals a sudden flush of pink and pearl

24Suffused from silver-tesselated notes.

25It is the flute has caught the drowsy phrase,

26Unravels it and carries it away

27To azure altitudes above the stave.

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