Where Does The Uttered Music Go?


Where does the uttered Music go?
When well-attempered mind and hand
Have made the mortal clay to glow
And separate spirits understand.
Ah, whither goes the boon,
The joy, that sweeps the willful sense
Into the planetary tune
Of sun-directed influence?
What is this creature, Music, save the Art,
The Rhythm that the planets journey by?
The living Sun-Ray entering the heart,
Touching the Life with that which cannot die?
This Man with Music touched our minds
With rapture from the shining ranks,
The Loves and Laws of unknown kinds
Who utter everlasting thanks.
All that he uttered, may remain
As Light, as Order, cleaving Space,
Within the emptiness, a gain,
Within the solitude, a grace.
O Mortals, praise him, for his hand
Brought to his brothers many a ray
From Light perceived, though never scanned,
From Law unknown, which all obey.

—John Masefield (1878-1967)

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