During Music-John Ireland

[00:06.63]O cool unto the sense of pain [00:10.76]That last night's sleep could not destroy; [00:16.60]O warm unto the sense of joy, [00:20.83]That dreams its life within the brain. [00:27.38]What though I lean o'er thee to scan [00:32.17]The written music cramped and stiff;— [00:38.02]'Tis dark to me, as hieroglyph [00:42.40]On those weird bulks Egyptian. [00:49.14] [00:56.99]But as from those, dumb now and strange, [01:03.24]A glory wanders on the earth, [01:08.28]Even so thy tones can call a birth [01:14.21]From these, to shake my soul with change. [01:20.46]O swift, as in melodious haste [01:27.80]Float o'er the keys thy fingers small; [01:38.32]O soft, as is the rise and fall [01:46.50]Which stirs that shade within thy breast.