I have no life save when the swords clash.
But ah! when I see the standards gold, vair, purple, opposing,
And the broad fields beneath them turn crimson,
Then howl I my heart nigh mad with rejoicing.

In hot summer have I great rejoicing
When the tempests kill the earth's foul peace,
And the lightnings from black heaven flash crimson,
And the fierce thunders roar me their music
And the winds shriek through the clouds mad, opposing,
And through all the riven skies God's swords clash.

I have quoted two verses to show the intricacy of the pattern.

The Provencal canzon, like the Elizabethan lyric, was written
for music. Mr. Pound has more recently insisted, in a series of
articles on the work of Arnold Dolmetsch, in the "Egoist," on
the importance of a study of music for the poet.

* * * * *

Such a relation between poetry and music is very different from
what is called the "music" of Shelley or Swinburne, a music
often nearer to rhetoric (or the art of the orator) than to the
instrument. For poetry to approach the condition of music
(Pound quotes approvingly the dictum of Pater) it is not
necessary that poetry should be destitute of meaning. Instead of
slightly veiled and resonant abstractions, like

Time with a gift of tears,