Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

During Music

O COOL unto the sense of pain
That last night's sleep could not destroy;
O warm unto the sense of joy,
That dreams its life within the brain.
What though I lean o'er thee to scan
The written music cramped and stiff;—
'Tis dark to me, as hieroglyph
On those weird bulks Egyptian.
But as from those, dumb now and strange,
A glory wanders on the earth,
Even so thy tones can call a birth
From these, to shake my soul with change.
O swift, as in melodious haste
Float o'er the keys thy fingers small;
O soft, as is the rise and fall
Which stirs that shade within thy breast. 

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 26. Mid-Rapture
2. The House of Life. Sonnet 14. Youth's Spring-Tribute
3. The House of Life. Sonnet 31. Her Gifts
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 38. The Morrow's Message
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 61. The Song-Throe

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