Music poems
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Report To Crazy Horse
© William Stafford
Crazy Horse, tell me if I am right:
these are the things we thought we were
doing something about.
Svanhvit's Colloquy
© Per Daniel Amadeus Atterbom
What countless paths wind down, from divers points,
To yonder city gates!--Oh, wilt not thou,
My star, appear to me on one of them?
Whate'er I said,--thou art my worshiped sun.
Then pardon me;--thou art not cold; oh, no!
Too warm, too glowing warm, art thou for me.
The Golden Legend: III. A Street In Strasburg
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Crier of the dead (ringing a bell)._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!
The Friendly Trees
© Henry Van Dyke
I will sing of the bounty of the big trees,
They are the green tents of the Almighty,
He hath set them up for comfort and for shelter.
The Jolly Dead March
© Henry Lawson
If I ever be worthy or famous
Which Im sadly beginning to doubt
To My Brooklet. (From The French Of Ducis)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thou brooklet, all unknown to song,
Hid in the covert of the wood!
Ah, yes, like thee I fear the throng,
Like thee I love the solitude.
Song #3
© John Clare
I peeled bits of straws and I got switches too
From the grey peeling willow as idlers do,
The Vintage To The Dungeon. A Song
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Sing out, pent soules, sing cheerefully!
Care shackles you in liberty:
Mirth frees you in captivity.
Would you double fetters adde?
Else why so sadde?
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 05:
© Conrad Aiken
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops,
Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass.
A flock of pigeons rises with blue wings flashing,
Rises with whistle of wings, hovers an instant,
And settles slowly again on the tarnished grass.
Shell-Music
© Roderic Quinn
YOU with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Slim and so white
In the moonlight?
Thought Of A Briton On The Subjugation Of Switzerland
© William Wordsworth
TWO Voices are there; one is of the sea,
One of the mountains; each a mighty Voice:
An Hymne In Honour Of Beautie
© Edmund Spenser
Ah! whither, Love! wilt thou now carry mee?
What wontlesse fury dost thou now inspire
Into my feeble breast, too full of thee?
Whylest seeking to aslake thy raging fyre,
Milestones
© Alice Guerin Crist
Gay balloons and coloured streamers,
Gliding figures, footsteps light,
Chillingham
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
I
Through the sunny garden
The humming bees are still;
The fir climbs the heather,
The heather climbs the hill.
England My Mother
© William Watson
England my mother,
Wardress of waters.
Builder of peoples,
Maker of men,-
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude III.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"What was the end? I am ashamed
Not to remember Reynard's fate;
Sent To Dr. Hayes, With The Ode To Harmony
© Henry James Pye
As Man's dull form inert and silent lay,
A senseless heap of unenliven'd clay,
The Burial Of Moses
© Cecil Frances Alexander
By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book I - Astra Darsana (The Tournament)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The scene of the Epic is the ancient kingdom of the Kurus which
flourished along the upper course of the Ganges; and the historical
fact on which the Epic is based is a great war which took place
between the Kurus and a neighbouring tribe, the Panchalas, in the
thirteenth or fourteenth century before Christ.
