The Fiddling Wood

    Wrenched¹ to strange， rugged² shapes； the red sun winked³

    Over the rough crest⁴ of the hairy wood

    In angry scorn； the grey road twisted， kinked，

    Like a sick serpent， seeming to environ

    The trees with magic. All the wood was still ——

    Cracked， crannied pines bent⁵ like malicious⁶ cripples

    Before the gusty⁷ wind； they seemed to nose，

    Nudge， poke⁸ each other， cackling with ill mirth ——

    Enchantment's days were over —— sh！ —— Suppose

    That crouching⁹ log there， where the white light stipples¹⁰

    Should —— break its quiet！ WAS THAT CRIMSON¹¹ —— EARTH？

    It smirched the ground like a lewd¹³ whisper， "Danger！" ——

    I hunched¹⁴ my cloak about me —— then， appalled¹⁵，

    Turned ice and fire by turns —— for —— someone stirred

    The brown， dry needles sharply！ Terror crawled

    Along my spine¹⁶， as forth¹⁷ there stepped —— a Stranger！

    And all the pines crooned like a drowsy¹⁸ bird！

    His stock was black. His great shoe-buckles glistened¹⁹.

    His fur cuffs²⁰ ended in a sheen of rings.

    And underneath²¹ his coat a case bulged²² blackly ——

    He swept his beaver²³ in a rush of wings！

    Then took the fiddle²⁴ out， and， as I listened，

    Tightened²⁵ and tuned²⁷ the yellowed strings²⁸， hung slackly.

    Ping！ Pang²⁹！ The clear notes swooped³⁰ and curved and darted³¹，

    Rising like gulls³². Then， with a finger skinny，

    He rubbed the bow with rosin， said， "Your pardon

    Signor！ —— Maestro Nicolo Paganini

    They used to call me！ Tchk！ —— The cold grips hard on

    A poor musician's fingers！" —— His lips parted.

    A tortured soul screamed suddenly and loud，

    From the brown， quivering case！ Then， faster， faster，

    Dancing in flame-like whorls， wild， beating， screaming，

    The music wailed³³ unutterable disaster；

    Heartbroken murmurs³⁴ from pale lips once proud，

    Dead， choking moans from hearts once nobly dreaming.

    Till all resolved in anguish³⁵ —— died away

    Upon one minor³⁶ chord， and was resumed

    In anguish； fell again to a low cry，

    Then rose triumphant³⁷ where the white fires fumed³⁸，

    Terrible， marching， trampling³⁹， reeling， gay，

    Hurling⁴⁰ mad， broken legions down to die

    Through everlasting⁴¹ hells —— The tears were salt

    Upon my fingers —— Then， I saw， behind

    The fury of the player， all the trees

    Crouched⁴² like violinists， boughs⁴³ crooked⁴⁴， jerking， blind，

    Sweeping⁴⁵ mad bows to music without fault，

    Grey cheeks to greyer fiddles⁴⁶， withered⁴⁷ knees.

    Gasping⁴⁸， I fled！ —— but still that devilish tune²⁶

    Stunned⁴⁹ ears and brain alike —— till clouds of dust

    Blotted⁵⁰ the picture， and the noise grew dim ——

    Shaking， I reached the town —— and turned —— in trust ——

    Wind-smitten， dread⁵¹， against the sky-line's rim¹²，

    Black， dragon branches whipped below a moon！