Music In The Pavilion

By Nora May French

Faces that throng and stare and come and go—"
    The air a-quiver as the voices meet;
And loud Humanity in mingled flow
  Passes with jarring tread of many feet.
 
But over all the chatter of the crowd
  (The background for its delicate relief)
Now trembling in a thread, now wild and loud,
  The violin laughs and sings, and cries its grief.
 
Then, through it all, and round it all, the sea;
   A solemn heart with never-ceasing beat,
Bearing an undertone of mystery
   The harsh and lovely notes, the shrill and sweet.
 
Surely it is my life—"of plodding days,
   With one Ideal holding clear and good;
And sounding over, under, through my ways,
   Something apart—" and never understood.