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the
sTRANGEmUSIC
Other
loves may sink and settle, other loves may loose and slack, But I wander
like a minstrel with a harp upon my back, Though the harp be on my bosom,
though I finger and I fret, Still, my hope is all before me; for
I cannot play it yet. In
your strings is hid a mUSIC
that no hand hath e'er let fall, In your soul is
sealed a pleasure that you have not known at all; Pleasure subtle as
your spirit,
sTRANGE
and slender as your frame, Fiercer than the pain that
folds you, softer than your sorrow's name. Not
as mine, my soul's annointed, not as mine the rude and light Easy mirth
of many faces, swaggering pride of song and fight; Something stranger,
something sweeter, something waiting you afar, Secret as your stricken
senses, magic as your sorrows are. But
on this, God's harp supernal, stretched but to be stricken once, Hoary
time is a beginner, Life a bungler, Death a dunce. But I will not fear
to match them - no by God, I will not fear, I will learn you, I will
play you and the stars stand still to hear. G.K.
Chesterton (1874-1936) Back
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