A Shattered Lute
I touched the heart that loved me as a player
   Touches a lyre. Content with my poor skill,
   No touch save mine knew my beloved (and still
I thought at times: Is there no sweet lost air
Old loves could wake in him, I cannot share?).
   O he alone, alone could so fulfil
   My thoughts in sound to the measure of my will.
He is gone, and silence takes me unaware.
The songs I knew not he resumes, set free
From my constraining love, alas for me!
   His part in our tune goes with him; my part
Is locked in me for ever; I stand as mute
   As one with vigorous music in his heart
Whose fingers stray upon a shattered lute.

Webpage © 2001 ELC
Lane Core Jr. (lane@elcore.net)
Created April 11, 2001; not revised.