Wild roses of music well up in my soul
That the toiling thoughts stand still to hear;
Reverberant, rich as the organ's roll,
Their theme is the dawn of a dominant cheer.
Swift rhythms of rapture my musings control,
Untangling all discords, while, jubilant, clear,
Wild roses of music well up in my soul
That the toiling thoughts stand still to hear.
Uplifted is being's unbreakable bowl,
And I quaff, in the place of a sigh or tear,
An ineffable gleam from the final goal,
A meteor-breath of the spirit-sphere:
Wild roses of music well up in my soul
That the toiling thoughts stand still to hear!
