IOLO
ANEURIN
WILLIAMS.
AT
MUSIC .
To
and
fro,
and
out
and
back
1
The music
swings me
,
lying
slack
And
limp
and
tired
;
and
now
it's
day
,
And
now
it's
night
,
and
I'm
away
With
queer
inconsequential
things
,
While
still the music
swings
and
swings
.
I
hardly
listen
to
the
sound
Which
yet
slips
in
and laps
around
Work
-
sodden
brain
and
listless
sense
.
.
.
“
An
ecstasy
for
eighteenpence
"
I
think
—
and
then
I
wonder why
I
thought
of
that
.
Perhaps
I
try
To
listen
,
and
I
watch
the
flies
Dancing
about
the
light
,
till
eyes
Grow
dazed
and numb
.
.
.
Then
suddenly
The music
grips me
,
thrills
to
me
With
little
shudders
up
my flesh
,
Like
sunsparks where
the wind
is
fresh
,
That
scatter
out across
a
lake
,
When
day
is
new
and
just awake
.
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