High Falcon & Other Poems/Magnificat in Little

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MAGNIFICAT IN LITTLE
I was enriched, not casting after marvels,But as one walking in a usual place,Without desert but common eyes and ears,No recourse but to hear, power but to see,Got to love you of grace.
Subtle musicians, that could body wind,Or contrive strings to anguish, in conceitRandom and artless strung a branch with bells,Fixed in one silver whim, which at a touchShook and were sweet.
And you, you lovely and unpurchased note,One run distraught, and vexing hot and coldTo give to the heart's poor confusion tongue,By chance caught you, and henceforth all unlearnedRepeats you gold.
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