The Death of Franco of Cologne: His Prophecy of Beethoven + 

It is useless, good woman, useless: the spark fails me. + 

God! yet when the might of it all assails me + 

It seems impossible that I cannot do it. + 

Yet I cannot. They were right, and they all knew it + 

Years ago, but I⁠—never! I have persisted + 

Blindly (they say) and now I am old. I have resisted + 

Everything, but now, now the strife’s ended. + 

The fire’s out; the old cloak has been mended + 

For the last time, the soul peers through its tatters. + 

Put a light by and leave me; nothing more matters + 

Now; I am done; I am at last well broken! + 

Yet, by God, I’ll still leave them a token + 

That they’ll swear it was no dead man writ it; + 

A morsel that they’ll mark well the day they bit it, + 

That there’ll be sand between their gross teeth to crunch yet + 

When goodman Gabriel blows his concluding trumpet. + 

Leave me! + 

And now, little black eyes, come you out here! + 

Ah, you’ve given me a lively, lasting bout, year + 

After year to win you round me darlings! + 

Precious children, little gambollers! “farlings” + 

They might have called you once, “nearlings” + 

I call you now, I, first of all the yearlings, + 

Upon this plain, for I it was that tore you + 

Out of chaos! It was I bore you! + 

Ah, you little children that go playing + 

Over the five-barred gate, and will still be straying + 

Spite of all that I have ever told you + 

Of counterpoint and cadence which does not hold you⁠— + 

No more than chains will for this or that strange reason, + 

But you’re always at some new loving treason + 

To be away from me, laughing, mocking, + 

Witlessly, perhaps, but for all that forever knocking + 

At this stanchion door of your poor father’s heart till⁠—oh, well + 

At least you’ve shown that you can grow well + 

However much you evade me faster, faster. + 

But, black eyes, some day you’ll get a master, + 

For he will come! He shall, he must come! + 

And when he finishes and the burning dust from + 

His wheels settles⁠—what shall men see then? + 

You, you, you, my own lovely children! + 

Aye, all of you, thus with hands together + 

Playing on the hill or there in a tether, + 

Or running free, but all mine! Aye, my very namesakes + 

Shall be his proper fame’s stakes. + 

And he shall lead you! + 

And he shall meed you! + 

And he shall build you gold palaces! + 

And he shall wine you from clear chalices! + 

For I have seen it! I have seen it + 

Written where the world-clouds screen it + 

From other eyes + 

Over the bronze gates of paradise! + 