INSCRIPTION

Sleep, crowned with fame; fearless of change or time.

Sleep, like remembered music in the soul,

Silent, immortal; while our discords climb

To that great chord which shall resolve the whole.

Silent with Mozart on that solemn shore;

Secure where neither waves nor hearts can break;

Sleep — till the Master of the World, once more,

Touch the remembered strings, and bid thee wake....

Touch the remembered strings, and bid thee wake.