Hoofs of Pegasus

<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</SPAN></span></p> <h2>TO A MUSICIAN</h2> <div class="poetry-container"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="bigfont">I</span> THOUGHT that only God could make the rain,</span> <span class="i0">But when you laid your hands upon the keys</span> <span class="i0">The room was full of gentle harmonies—</span> <span class="i0">An eager shower pattering on the pane,</span> <span class="i0">The hushed and wistful tread</span> <span class="i0">Of rain at night that marches overhead,</span> <span class="i0">The kind, grey rain that stills the windy trees.</span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I thought that only God could make a star,</span> <span class="i0">But I have heard your fingers build the sky,</span> <span class="i0">Have watched the yellow dusk of autumn die</span> <span class="i0">And night creep up the east immense and far,</span> <span class="i0">Then glittering and bright,</span> <span class="i0">I’ve seen the Hunter girt with silver light,</span> <span class="i0">Orion with his shining hounds sweep by.</span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I thought that only God could make the sea,</span> <span class="i0">But in your music the unbounded deep</span> <span class="i0">Is gathered up as in a treasure heap—</span> <span class="i0">Calm spaces, rocks where singing tides run free,</span> <span class="i0">The cloudy-emerald foam</span> <span class="i0">Ships on the world’s dim verge, far, far from home,</span> <span class="i0">And pools unrippled where the hushed winds sleep.</span></div> </div></div> <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />