Music poems
/ page 106 of 253 /The City Of Darkness
© Madison Julius Cawein
Wide-walled it stands in heathen lands
Beside a mystic sea,
With streets strange-trod of many a god,
And templed blasphemy.
Art and Heart
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Though critics may bow to art, and I am its own true lover,
It is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.
Though smooth be the heartless prayer, no ear in Heaven will mind it,
And the finest phrase falls dead if there is no feeling behind it.
Unrequited
© Madison Julius Cawein
Passion? not hers! who held me with pure eyes:
One hand among the deep curls of her brow,
I drank the girlhood of her gaze with sighs:
She never sighed, nor gave me kiss or vow.
Clipper Days (a song from Snug Harbor)
© Harry Kemp
I am eighty years old and somewhat,
But I give to God the praise
That they made a sailor of me
In the good old Clipper Days
The Profession. A Sketch
© Alaric Alexander Watts
On Santa Croce's golden-pillared shrine,
A thousand tapers pour their blended rays
The Mountain Whippoorwill
© Stephen Vincent Benet
Listen to my fiddle Kingdom ComeKingdom Come!
Hear the frogs a-chunkin "Jug o rum, Jug o' rum!"
Hear that mountain-whippoorwill be lonesome in the air.
An Ill tell yuh how I traveled to the Essex County Fair.
Dorchester Amphitheatre .
© John Kenyon
By Rome's old amphitheatre I stood,
Still pretty perfect, on the Weymouth road,
Bellambi's Maid
© Henry Kendall
Amongst the thunder-splintered caves
On Ocean's long and windy shore,
The Sylph Of Summer
© William Lisle Bowles
God said, Let there be light, and there was light!
At once the glorious sun, at his command,
Circe
© Augusta Davies Webster
Ah me! these love a day and laugh again,
and loving, laughing, find a full content;
but I know nought of peace, and have not loved.
The Heavy Dragoon
© William Schwenck Gilbert
If you want a receipt for that popular mystery,
Known to the world as a Heavy Dragoon,
The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Third
© William Wordsworth
NOW joy for you who from the towers
Of Brancepeth look in doubt and fear,
Telling melancholy hours!
Proclaim it, let your Masters hear
Dance Of The Hanged Men
© Arthur Rimbaud
On the black gallows, one-armed friend,
The paladins are dancing, dancing
The lean, the devil's paladins
The skeletons of Saladins.
November, 1851
© George MacDonald
Why wilt thou stop and start?
Draw nearer, oh my heart,
And I will question thee most wistfully;
Gather thy last clear resolution
To look upon thy dissolution.
A Man Meets A Woman In The Street
© Randall Jarrell
Under the separated leaves of shade
Of the gingko, that old tree
Future Poetry
© Alice Meynell
No new delights to our desire
The singers of the past can yield.
I lift mine eyes to hill and field,
And see in them your yet dumb lyre,
Poets unborn and unrevealed.
The Castle Of Indolence
© James Thomson
The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.
Metamorphoses: Book The Eighth
© Ovid
The End of the Eighth Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands