As it rains on the town.
What is this dull smart
Possessing my heart?

Soft sound of the rain
On the ground and the roofs!
To a heart in pain,
O the song of the rain!

It weeps without cause
In my heart-sick heart.
In her faith, what? no flaws?
This grief has no cause.

'Tis sure the worst woe
To know not wherefore
My heart suffers so
Without joy or woe.


Son joyeux, importun, d'un clavecin sonore.--PETRUS BOREL

The keyboard, over which two slim hands float,
Shines vaguely in the twilight pink and gray,
Whilst with a sound like wings, note after note
Takes flight to form a pensive little lay
That strays, discreet and charming, faint, remote,
About the room where perfumes of Her stray.

What is this sudden quiet cradling me