BLIND TOM

Oh, happy, sad, mysterious, wondrous soul!

Imprisoned in a living dungeon deep

The fates have bound thee; but they can not keep

For ay that spirit in their dark control

Who hear'st the music of the spheres that roll

Through silent time; those beauteous orbs that sweep

Through space and glitter in the boundless deep,

Will yet thy blind, benighted life console.

What sin didst thou commit, or whom offend?

That doomed thee to a carnal cell so gross

That scarce a hint of what thou really art

Has ever reached the world,— who couldst transcend

In matchless music, purged of all thy dross,

The great Beethoven or divine Mozart.