A Toccata of Galuppi’s
…
Thy flowers have the soft white hue,
The lark’s singing echoes too;
And where once they blew,
A lingering sound of past adieu
Calls me back to the view;

Where your art like the breeze
Plays on heaven’s face with ease;
A necessary release—
For what is more than just this peace?

• Robert Browning