SHE loved the palace that by slow degrees Arose, as from the common dust around, Arch over arch, and dome o'er dome of sound,— A miracle of the master of the keys; She loved Abt Vogler's palace more than these We stare at; for, when he had ceased, she found It did not crumble back into the ground, But lived as stars do, and the hills, and seas. Ah! little she dreamed what palace, day by day, The Master of Life was building through the years From her fair deeds—never to pass away: Silence has fallen, but her life appears Triumphant now o'er time and time's decay,— A golden glory shining through my tears! |