Classic Poem

I wait—
Around me seethe the opposing powers of tone,
More slender sway the dizzy violins,
A whisper vibrating in sense alone—
Lost to itself,
Till wood-winds break the spell,
Hold the escaping breath—
Recall the theme to life while viols sigh assent,
The 'cellos deep release their prisoned souls,
The harps with liquid lightnings flame in chords
And multichords of ecstasy—
Swooning beneath the brazen blast of horns.
Above the teasing pulse-wave of the triangle
That pricks the nerves,
Lord of the blurring kettledrums
Or thunder of the Bass
At last—
I rise,
I lift my arm—
I wait—
One golden cymbal at my side,
One held aloft,
And with a gesture threatening heaven and hell
Crash pain on passion,
Glory on terror,
Madness on despair!
Cut life in two, and then—
Sit back and count a thousand bars.