F For Fiddles

What an enchanted world is this,

What music I have heard: And when

I hear these Master fiddlers play,

I ask-'Are these not marvellous men?'

So, since such men command the sweetest sounds,

I'll have no fear to leave my solitude of woods and fields,

An join the human multitude;

To hear a Master's hand express

The very soul and tenderness

Heard when a pigeon's cooing there;

To hear him make the robin sob again,

In autumn, when the trees go bare;

Till-touching one lamb-bleating string-

We leap the Winter into Spring.