

24 



TRANSACTIONS. 1 879-8. 



The Violinist. 



By a. IvAMPman, B.A., F.R.S.C. 



{Read Nov. igth^ jSpy. 



In Dresden in the square one day, 



With wheezy bow and proffered hat, 



A face of parchment seamed and grey, 

 An old blind violinist sat. 



Like one from whose worn heart the heat 



Of life had long ago retired. 

 He played to the unheeding street 



Until the the thin old hands were tired. 



Few marked the player how he played, 

 Or how the child beside his knee 



Besought the passers-by for aid 

 So softly and so wistfully. 



A stranger passed. The little hand 



Went forth, so often checked and spurned. 



The stranger wavered, came to stand, 



Looked round with absent eyes and turned. 



He saw the sightless, withered face, 



The tired old hands, the whitened hair. 



The child with such a mournful grace. 

 The little features pinched and spare. 



" I have no money, but," said he 



" Give me the violin and bow. 

 I'll play a little, we shall see, 



Whether the gold will come or no." 



