Music poems
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Geraldine
© Madison Julius Cawein
Ah, Geraldine, lost Geraldine,
That night of love, when first we met,
You have forgotten, Geraldine--
I never dreamed you would forget.
Garden Gossip
© Madison Julius Cawein
Thin, chisel-fine a cricket chipped
The crystal silence into sound;
And where the branches dreamed and dripped
A grasshopper its dagger stripped
And on the humming darkness ground.
The Wind-Harp
© James Russell Lowell
I treasure in secret some long, fine hair
Of tenderest brown, but so inwardly golden
Oreheus To Beasts
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Here, here, oh here! EURIDICE,
Here was she slaine;
Her soule 'still'd through a veine:
What Home's Intended For
© Edgar Albert Guest
When the young folks gather 'round in the good old-fashioned way,
Singin' all the latest songs gathered from the newest play,
Or they start the phonograph an' shove the chairs back to the wall
An' hold a little party dance, I'm happiest of all.
Then I sorter settle back, plumb contented to the core,
An' I tell myself most proudly, that's what home's intended for.
Music And Sleep
© Madison Julius Cawein
These have a life that hath no part in death;
These circumscribe the soul and make it strong;
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
Address To A Maid
© Charles Mair
If those twin gardens of delight,
Thine eyes, were ever in my sight,
The Impecunious Fop
© Joseph Hall
See'st thou how gaily my young master goes,
Vaunting himself upon his rising toes;
The Desecraters
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Witness all: that unrepenting,
Feathers flying, music high,
I go down to death unshaken
By your mean philosophy.
Rose and Murray
© Conrad Aiken
After the movie, when the lights come up,
He takes her powdered hand behind the wings;
John Burns Of Gettysburg
© Francis Bret Harte
So raged the battle. You know the rest:
How the rebels, beaten and backward pressed,
Broke at the final charge, and ran.
At which John Burnsa practical man
Shouldered his rifle, unbent his brows,
And then went back to his bees and cows.
The Snowdrop In The Snow
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
O full of Faith! The Earth is rock,-the Heaven
The dome of a great palace all of ice,
The Ancient Printman
© James Whitcomb Riley
"O Printerman of sallow face,
And look of absent guile,
Is it the 'copy' on your 'case'
That causes you to smile?
Or is it some old treasure scrap
You cull from Memory's file?
The Waggoner - Canto Second
© William Wordsworth
IF Wytheburn's modest House of prayer,
As lowly as the lowliest dwelling,
Had, with its belfry's humble stock,
A little pair that hang in air,
The Song Of Hiawatha XII: The Son Of The Evening Star
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
Love
© Alexander Smith
THE fierce exulting worlds, the motes in rays,
The churlish thistles, scented briers,
The wind-swept bluebells on the sunny braes,
Down to the central fires,
