Music poems
/ page 103 of 253 /Sonnet. "If in thy heart the spring of joy remains"
© Frances Anne Kemble
If in thy heart the spring of joy remains,
All beauteous things, being reflected there,
On Receiving A Curious Shell
© John Keats
Hast thou from the caves of Golconda, a gem
Pure as the ice-drop that froze on the mountain?
Bright as the humming-bird's green diadem,
When it flutters in sun-beams that shine through a fountain?
Sonnet XXVII: Heart's Compass
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Sometimes thou seem'st not as thyself alone,
But as the meaning of all things that are;
The Old Farm
© Madison Julius Cawein
Dormered and verandaed, cool,
Locust-girdled, on the hill;
Stained with weather-wear, and dull-
Streak'd with lichens; every sill
Thresholding the beautiful;
Palmyra (2nd Edition)
© Thomas Love Peacock
--anankta ton pantôn huperbal-
lonta chronon makarôn.
Pindar. Hymn. frag. 33
The Magic Wand
© Ada Cambridge
As an April garden
Breathes the scent of rain-
Rain that calls her treasures
Back to life again-
So my spirit quickens to the opening strain.
When All Has Been Said And Done.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"Perhaps it will all come right at last;
It may be, when all is done,
We shall be together in some good world,
Where to wish and to have are one."
--STODDARD.
For Lillian
© Robert Crawford
She was so dear, so fair. Her memory stays,
Even her dying robs me not of this,
By The Sea
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Last night a hand on my window tapped,
A voice came out of the sea,
Saint Mar Magdelene; or, The Weeper
© Richard Crashaw
Hail, sister springs,
Parents of silver-footed rills!
Ever bubbling things,
Thawing crystal, snowy hills!
Still spending, never spent; I mean
Thy fair eyes, sweet Magdalene.
The Gypsy
© Edward Thomas
A fortnight before Christmas Gypsies were everywhere:
Vans were drawn up on wastes, women trailed to the fair.
Sonnet. "When in the wintry woods you hear the note"
© Frances Anne Kemble
When in the wintry woods you hear the note
Of some small robin piping his delight
A Song Of Trafalgar
© Edith Nesbit
LIKE an angry sun, like a splendid star,
War gleams down the long years' track;
Stanzas For Music
© William Lisle Bowles
I trust the happy hour will come,
That shall to peace thy breast restore;
And that we two, beloved friend,
Shall one day meet to part no more.
A Parson's Letter To A Young Poet
© Jean Ingelow
They said: "We, rich by him, are rich by more;
One Aeschylus found watchfires on a hill
That lit Old Night's three daughters to their work;
When the forlorn Fate leaned to their red light
And sat a-spinning, to her feet he came
And marked her till she span off all her thread.
Nora: A Serenade
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
AH, Nora, my Nora, the light fades away,
While Night like a spirit steals up o'er the hills;
The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'