Music poems
/ page 1 of 253 /
not happy eNding
© KateZ
your music playin in bsplayer
while your soul is somewhere
around us or in heaven
two different beings connected
To Qiwu Qian Bound Home After Failing In An Examination
© Wang Wei
In a happy reign there should be no hermits;
The wise and able should consult together....
Sonnet VII: Sweet Poet of the Woods
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Sweet poet of the woods---a long adieu!
Farewel, soft minstrel of the early year!
Song of the Lotos-Eaters
© Alfred Tennyson
THERE is sweet music here that softer falls
Than petals from blown roses on the grass,
In Memoriam A. HIn Memoriam A. H. H.: 56. So careful of the type? but no.: 55. The wish, that of the living whol
© Alfred Tennyson
Who trusted God was love indeed
And love Creation's final law--
Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw
With ravine, shriek'd against his creed--
In Memoriam A. H. H.: The Prelude
© Alfred Tennyson
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how,
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 95. By night we linger'd on the lawn
© Alfred Tennyson
While now we sang old songs that peal'd
From knoll to knoll, where, couch'd at ease,
The white kine glimmer'd, and the trees
Laid their dark arms about the field.
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131. O living will that shalt endure
© Alfred Tennyson
O true and tried, so well and long,
Demand not thou a marriage lay;
In that it is thy marriage day
Is music more than any song.
In Memoriam A. H. H. Obiit MDCCCXXXIII: 3. O Sorrow, cruel
© Alfred Tennyson
And shall I take a thing so blind,
Embrace her as my natural good;
Or crush her, like a vice of blood,
Upon the threshold of the mind?
Come Into The Garden, Maud
© Alfred Tennyson
Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, Night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the roses blown.
Come Into the Garde, Maud
© Alfred Tennyson
Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, Night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the roses blown.
The Land of Nod
© Robert Louis Stevenson
From breakfast on through all the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
The Comedian As The Letter C
© Wallace Stevens
379 Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
380 With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
381 No, no: veracious page on page, exact.
Jubilate Agno (excerpt)
© Christopher Smart
For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
Astrophel and Stella
© Sir Philip Sidney
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Written among the Euganean Hills North Italy
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
MANY a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
The Flight of Love
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
WHEN the lamp is shatter'd
The light in the dust lies dead¡ª
Snapshots of a Daughter-In-Law
© Adrienne Rich
You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud,
still have your dresses copied from that time,
and play a Chopin prelude
called by Cortot: "Delicious recollections
float like perfume through the memory."
On the Welch Language
© Katherine Philips
If honor to an ancient name be due,
Or riches challenge it for one that's new,
