Songs of the Sea and Lays of the LandLeland, Charles Godfrey
General
Songs of the Sea and Lays of the Land
Leland, Charles Godfrey
Sea poetry
Up rose a buzz of strangest wonderment,
Or, as ’tis writ, _Di che restarono_
_Più maravigliati_; for they all
Were much amazed that such a common man—
_Si vile e si rozzo_—such a boor—
Had risen to the pinnacle of Art
In Venice, where all Art was at its height,
And gained the crown of glory—_Iddio_!
“Ten francs a month besides the perquisites!”
They bowed before him with deep reverence,
Hoping he’d stay with them a little time.
Then some one spoke with hesitating tone,
As if in fear to take a liberty,
And said: “Your Excellence—if we might dare—
Since we would celebrate the kind return
Of such an Honour to our noble town,
Would you not grace the occasion, and increase
Our joy and sense of deep respectfulness,
By playing Vespers for us in the Dome
On Sunday next?” Giannolo bowed low,
And in a speech adorned with many flowers,
Which he had culled from sermons in Saint Mark,
Acceded gracefully to their request,
And said he would be there to play, in time.
When Sunday came there came with it a crowd
Such as Bergamo never saw before,
For in her streets and past her palaces
Thousands in holiday attire swept on,
And even afar there was a thundering roar,
From time to time, which rolled from square to square,
As when the incoming ocean, with a tide
Urged by a tempest, breaks among the rocks.
Yea, there were many—_tanto popolo_—
All that the church would hold, and then outside
A vast, impatient, brilliant multitude,
Such as had ne’er been there at any time.
And at the appointed hour Giannolo came,
Rising before the people in his state,
Waiting awhile the appearance of the man
Who was to play the organ while he—blew!
And all the congregation waited too,
All staring steadily at the great man
In anxious expectation, till at last
Giannolo from the pulpit cried aloud:
“Where is the man who is to touch the keys?
What is the use of making music, hey—
And filling up the thing with melody,
As I have come to do, unless there be
Some one to click the bones and let it out?
You don’t suppose that I can raise the wind,
And steer, and sail the ship as well, my friends.
Such things were ne’er beheld at any time.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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