You found my soul an untried instrument.
I closed it fast and bade you take the key,
Serene in my unquestioning content
That you alone could wake the harmony.
I gave the key, indifferent though it cost
Familiar lightness of unskilful touch,
The music to the master. If I lost,
He lets the little go who profits much.
Ah, then the keen, reluctant knowledge grew
That though the chords were helpless at your will
You had nor wit nor power to sound them true:
Discordant they, or else forever still.