VERONICA, ELVIRA and other female attendants.
Veron.
Come then, a song; a winding, gentle song,
To lead me into sleep.Let it be low
As zephyr, telling secrets to his rose,
For I would hear the murmuring of my thoughts;
And more of voice than of that other music
That grows around the strings of quivering lutes;
But most of thought; for with my mind I listen,
And when the leaves of sound are shed upon it,
If there's no seed remembrance grows not there.
So life, so death; a song, and then a dream!
Contrast between sensual and immediate pure music and more concrete ideas that are expressed in language. Beddoes' rhythmically enchanting and intelligent verses, of course, encapsulate some of both aspects.
From Torrismond Garden Scene