The tune you played it ran so sweetly I was sure Time himself had stopped dead in his tracks to greet me And let believe all the while my soul had been enslaved Such was the relief to my heart that it gave; Holier than the sight of monasteries crouched in secluded valleys Sweeter than the song of the bird in the green Summer's tree So sweet was it that it opened a thousand as yet unsavoured dreams And had my mind rest easy on the cool wind Which swept over their prosperous seas.
II
The tune you played brought calm upon a boisterous evening Though Sorrow came to me When I saw you finish and leave the centre stage For I had thought I might live forever under your enchanting spell Far from the world in peace and harmony With Love kept, not left weeping Far from the wakening hour From that chore of modern empty living; It was by far the sweetest tune It released this fellow songbird from his cage And it all seemed like glorious Heaven these brief moments spent For he who had longed always to be free.
Translated from the original Latin of Emperor Nero circa 40 AD (his later period).
Used to read old Irish poetry Thomas Moore, James Clarence Mangan. This was a kind of homage. The Nero bit was a joke.