us, and the form as well as the
content touches the infinite; that is, we have as Browning says in a
poem already quoted, "Bernard de Mandeville," the very sun in little, or
as he makes Abt Vogler say of his music, the broken arc which goes to
the formation of the perfect round, or to quote still another poem of
Browning's, "Cleon," the perfect rhomb or trapezoid that has its own
place in a mosaic pavement.

[Illustration: Avison's March]

The poem closes in a rolicking frame of mind, which is not remarkably
consistent with the preceding thought, except that the poet seems
determined to get all he can out of the music of the past by enlivening
it with his own jolly mood. To this end he sets a patriotic poem to the
tune of Avison's march, in honor of our old friend, Pym. It is a clever
_tour de force_ for the words are made to match exactly in rhythm and
quantity the notes of the march. Truth to say, the essential goodness of
the tune comes out by means of these enlivening words.

XIV

Therefore--bang the drums,
Blow the trumpets, Avison! March-motive? that's
Truth which endures resetting. Sharps and flats,
Lavish at need, shall dance athwart thy score
When ophicleide and bombardon's uproar
Mate the approaching trample, even now
Big in the distance--or my ears deceive--
Of federated England, fitly weave
March-music for the Future!

XV

Or suppose
Back, and not forward, transformation goes?
Once more some sable-stoled procession--say,
From Little-ease to Tyburn--wends its way,
Out of the dungeon to the gallows-tree
Where heading, hacking, hanging is to be
Of half-a-dozen recusants--this day
Three hundred years ago! How duly drones
Elizabethan plain-song--dim antique
Grown clarion-clear the while I humbly wreak
A classic vengeance on thy March! It moans--
Larges and Longs and Breves displacing quite
Crotchet-and-quaver pertness--brushing bars
Aside and filling vacant sky with stars
Hidden till now that day returns to night.

XVI

Nor night nor day: one purpose move us both,
Be thy mood mine! As thou wast minded, Man's
The cause our music champions: I were loth
To think we cheered our troop to Preston Pans
Ignobly: back to times of England's best!
Parliament stands for privilege--life and limb
Guards Hollis, Haselrig, Strod