The Heart of Music

By George Sterling

I murmur: "Craig!" At once in every vein
    There stirs and subtle and unresting fire
    Too wild to tame, too sorrowful to tire,—
So might God's saddest star cry out amain;
Such chords the flashing hands of Love attain,
    Bright at his breast the supplicating lyre,
    When Music, calling in supreme desire,
Tells to the night her glory and her pain.

Deep in my heart its echo sobs and dies,
And dying, leaves a darkness that mine eyes
    Search for a sign of thee, however vague.
        O sweet, lost strains! O voice of vanished wings!
        Again I turn me to immortal things:
Again in ecstasy I murmur: "Craig!"

Written in Sag Harbor.