“
Now reading
High Fidelity
If I could, Odysseus or Faust-like,
Converse with one of the towering dead,
I would summon George Frederick Handel
Who chose perfection of the work-
His life, ordinary, except for trips
On the Continent by carriage
To recruit castrati to trill
In his operas, trips to Bath
For the fashionable cures, trips
To Hanover to console his mother.
A friend of Pope, he had no ear
For English, even sweet Italian
Was clotted with his gutterals.
He composed alone, a bachelor
Wedded to music, mostly famous
In London-there An Institution.
He did see the Great God Himself once
While he penned The Hallelujah;
The Great King George Himself
Stood up at the performance.
Shades
Of the Past, conduct him hither
Through System II of my new stereo.