Entry Into the Coda.

The last repeat is satisfied and sung. Once more through the burden would ring false. I feel less young. I tire of this waltz. And yet with seemly cause Approaching delicacy Redolent of old courtesy, At the double-bar I pause And look back on those crazy Syncopated thumps, enjoyed As pulses, rhythmically obeying laws: Yet off the beat, and far from cardioid. The final cadences are brief, With no cadenzas optioned or required; At V & I is promise of relief, As silence is the tonic of belief— Despite the passages on leaves unturned in all the music I have learned, And all the songs I have desired.