Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
MusicAlice Corbin
R. A.
T
Die.
Yes, the old songs die.
Cold lips that sang them,
Cold lips that sang them—
The old songs die,
And the lips that sang them
Are only a pinch of dust.
In a musty museum—
I saw in Pamplona
In a buff-colored museum—
I saw in Pamplona
A memorial
Of the dead violinist;
I saw in Pamplona
A memorial
Of Pablo Sarasate.
Dust on the stick-pins and satins,
Dust on the badges and orders,
On the wreath from the oak of Guernica!
Die—
And the lips that sang them.
Wreaths, withered and dusty,
Cuff-buttons with royal insignia,
These, in a musty museum,
Are all that is left of Sarasate.