What an enchanted world is this,
   What music I have heard: And when
I hear these Master fiddlers play,
   I ask - 'Are these not marvellous men?'
So, since such men command the sweetest sounds,
   I'll have no fear to leave my solitude
Of woods and fields,
   And join the human multitude;
To hear a Master's hand express
The very soul and tenderness
   Heard when a pigeon's cooing there;
To hear him make the robin sob again,
   In Autumn, when the trees go bare;
Till — touching one lamb-bleating string -
We leap the Winter into Spring.