Though sound has ceased
Within this dainty box,
Who will presume
To say its music
Has been totally released?
Is it not tinkling even now
Around this very room?
Lilts lightly in upon the dawn—
And not by chance
Makes even darkness dance?
Ah, you must allow
When love’s the key,
Mute music boxes
Blithely play
As if to prove the heart’s remembrance
Far more real than broken steel
Or clay.