Bob, I couldn't agree more with you that mastery is a trait we can ascribe to Mr. Justice with no ??'s. I know this poem as Henry James By The Pacific. Has he changed its title? Here's another sonnet of his that's always struck me.
The Pupil
Picture me, the shy pupil at the door,
One small, tight fist clutching the dread Czerny.
Back then time was still harmony, not money,
And I could spend a whole week practicing for
That moment on the threshold. Then to take courage,
And enter, and pass among the mysterious scents,
And sit quite straight, and with a frail confidence
Assault the keyboard with a childish flourish!
Only to lose my place, or forget the key,
And almost doubt the very metronome
(Outside the traffic, the laborers going home),
And still to bear on across Chopin or Brahms,
Stupid and wild with love equally for the storms
Of C # minor and the calms of C.
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