Classic Poem

Transpose the music of thy life, fair soul,
Thy life of varied stop and harmony,
Where peace and love the harsher notes control,
Into a duller, lower, fiercer key
Half fed and clad, in some dark garret sew
On horny cloth, while, ladened cruelly,
Mutely protesting on the hours go.
Or at remorseless chimes, reluctantly,
Come forth to wheels and cogs. Such music hear
Pale millions, from whose lips strange sounds are wrung
Strive thou to catch it with that dainty ear,
Though it be music thou hast never sung.
See to it well thou hear the strain complete —
Then marvel! For this music is not sweet!