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Christmas at the hall

Chapter 44: The Blind Musician.
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About This Book

This collection presents a sequence of poems built around a framing Christmas family gathering that links diverse shorter pieces; it moves between domestic sketches, seasonal and religious meditations, elegies and occasional tributes. Maritime landscapes and coastal scenes appear alongside reflective night musings, sonnets and ballads, while personal aspiration toward the poetic calling recurs in a few direct addresses. The verse varies in metre and tone, alternating descriptive natural imagery, moral and devotional reflection, and narrative fragments, producing an earnest, uneven but sincere portrait of a nineteenth-century poet testing his powers across themes of home, nature, loss, and hope.

The Blind Musician.

He touched his flute by the lone inn door,
And artless were all the sounds he drew;
But mid the notes of that simple lay
The deep delight of his soul breathed through.
The earth for him had no robes of light,
No gorgeous scenes to exalt his mind;
No bright summer clouds or sunset skies
To melt his spirit—for he was blind!
Yet cheerless and dark his soul was not,
Shut out from a lovely world around;
For music could waft his thoughts to dwell,
In a rich and joyful world of sound.
I saw on his cheek content’s calm smile,
And blessed in my heart the love of heaven;
That to a being in darkness born,
Such a secret fund of joy had given.
Yet as I gazed on the landscape round
All glowing in sunshine rich and free;
There gushed from my heart, intense and strong,—
“I thank Thee, O God—I see! I see!”