The Master

Radio Record, Volume IV, Issue 38, 3 April 1931, Unnumbered Page

The Master

He raised his bow, the whisperings dica, The hot room sank away, the walls grew wide. Across a shadowy land a faint wind blew, A wild bird cried, The silence stirred and broke, In meadows frothed with flowers Sky-larks awoke. Over a long blue hill Dawn welled, pellucid, still. Each hollow dreamed, a shallow pool of blue, Each sun-ward hill pulsed coloured fires of dew, And through it all a golden singing went, As of « heart that seemed that it must break For very ecstasy of beauty pent, "Awake," it sang, "Oh wake, awake! No loveliness is lost, It is enough to be, For beauty’s sake." e 6 8 2 2 Silence-a breathless pause, Then, like a sudden rainstorm, The applause.

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