"The trumpet is a brilliant instrument." - Dietrich Buxtehude br br br Come and come forth and come up from the cup of br Your dumbness, stunned and numb, come with br The statues and believed in, br Thinking this is nothing, deceived. br br Come to the summer and sun, br Come see upon that height, and that sum br In the seedtime of the winter's absolute, br How yearly the phoenix inhabits the fruit. br Behold, above all, how the tall ball br Called the body is but a drum, but a bell br Summoning the soul br To rise from the catacomb of sleep and fear br To the blaze and death of summer, br br Rising from the lithe forms of the pure br Furs of the rising flames, slender and supple, br Which are the consummation of the blaze of fall and of all.