Of Too Much Song

Sedges, have you sung too much

Sedges gray along the shore

Can this autumn tempest touch

Answering chords in you no more

Is the summer all forgot

Now the ice is dark and strong

That has bound you to the spot

Did you die of too much song

Something in me is a harp

Played by every wanton breeze

Moaning soft and piping sharp

Are its wondrous melodies

Is the playing over-fast

Though the answer now is strong

Like the sedges at the last

Will it die of too much song