Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . F SAXE-GOTHA XXVI Who thinks Hugnes wrote for the deaf? Proved a mere mountain in labour?Better submit—try again—whats the clef? Faith, its no trifle for pipe and for tabor—Four flats—the minor in F. XXVII Friend, your fugue taxes the finger. Learning it once, who would lose it?Yet all the while a misgiving will linger— Truth s golden oer us although we refuse it—Nature, thro dust-clouds we fling her! XXVIII Hugues ! I advise ined poena (Counterpoint glares like a Gorgon)Bid One, Two, Three, Four, Five, clear the arena! Say the word,
Poems; with introdby Richard Garnett and illusby Byam Shaw . F SAXE-GOTHA XXVI Who thinks Hugnes wrote for the deaf? Proved a mere mountain in labour?Better submit—try again—whats the clef? Faith, its no trifle for pipe and for tabor—Four flats—the minor in F. XXVII Friend, your fugue taxes the finger. Learning it once, who would lose it?Yet all the while a misgiving will linger— Truth s golden oer us although we refuse it—Nature, thro dust-clouds we fling her! XXVIII Hugues ! I advise ined poena (Counterpoint glares like a Gorgon)Bid One, Two, Three, Four, Five, clear the arena! Say the word, straight I unstop the Full-Organ,Blare out the mode Palestrina. XXIX While in the roof, if 1 m right there—. . Lo, you, the wick in the socket!Hallo, you sacristan, show us a light there! Down it dips, gone like a rocket!What, you want, do you, to come unawares,Sweeping the church up for first morning-prayers,And find a poor devil at end of his caresAt the foot of your rotten-planked rat-riddled stairs?Do I carry the moon in my pocket? 259. s
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Keywords: ., bookauthorgarnettr, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
