Music poems
/ page 147 of 253 /Vobiscum Est Iope
© Thomas Campion
When thou must home to shades of underground,
And there arrived, a new admirèd guest,
The beauteous spirits do engirt thee round,
White Iope, blithe Helen, and the rest,
To hear the stories of thy finished love
From that smooth tongue whose music hell can move;
Intimations Of The Beautiful
© Madison Julius Cawein
The hills are full of prophecies
And ancient voices of the dead;
Of hidden shapes that no man sees,
Pale, visionary presences,
That speak the things no tongue hath said,
No mind hath thought, no eye hath read.
I Will Make You Brooches
© Robert Louis Stevenson
I will make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.
I will make a palace fit for you and me
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.
The Musical Carp
© Carolyn Wells
There once was a corpulent carp
Who wanted to play on a harp,
But to his chagrin
So short was his fin
That he couldn't reach up to C sharp.
The Wine Of Song
© Charles Sangster
On their astral rounds
Float divinest sounds,
Unseen, save by spirit-sight,
Obeying some wise, eternal law,
As fixed as the law of light.
Sonnet IX: Passion And Worship
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
One flame-winged brought a white-winged harp-player
Even where my lady and I lay all alone;
Christmas Day, 1850
© George MacDonald
Beautiful stories wed with lovely days
Like words and music:-what shall be the tale
Of love and nobleness that might avail
To express in action what this sweetness says-
Mozart's Requiem
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Not so, it is not so!
The warning voice I know,
From other worlds a strange mysterious tone;
A solemn funeral air
It call'd me to prepare,
And my heart answer'd secretly my own!
Pauline, A Fragment of a Question
© Robert Browning
And I can love nothing-and this dull truth
Has come the last: but sense supplies a love
Encircling me and mingling with my life.
Some Beasts
© Pablo Neruda
A monkey is weaving
a thread of insatiable lusts
on the margins of morning:
he topples a pollen-fall,
startles the violet-flight
of the butterfly, wings on the Muzo.
1914 IV. The Dead
© Rupert Brooke
There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.
Songs Set To Music: 11. Set By Mr. De Fesch
© Matthew Prior
Morella, charming without art,
And kind without design,
Can never lose the smallest part
Of such a heart as mine.
In November
© Paul Eluard
Outside the house the wind is howling
and the trees are creaking horribly.
Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee
© Henry Van Dyke
Joyful, joyful we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love,
Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee, hail Thee as the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness, drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness, fill us with the light of day.
To A Locomotive In Winter
© Walt Whitman
Fierce-throated beauty!
Roll through my chant, with all thy lawless music! thy swinging lamps
at night;
Thy piercing, madly-whistled laughter! thy echoes, rumbling like an
earthquake, rousing all!
The Sparrow's Fall
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
And lifted the gloomy shadows
That overspread my life,
And flooding my home with gladness,
Made me a happy wife.