Music poems
/ page 177 of 253 /With Wordsworth At Rydal
© James Thomas Fields
THE GRASS hung wet on Rydal banks,
The golden day with pearls adorning,
When side by side with him we walked
To meet midway the summer morning.
The Naiads' Music: From A Faun's Holiday
© Robert Nichols
Come, ye sorrowful, and steep
Your tired brows in a nectarous sleep:
For our kisses lightlier run
Than the traceries of the sun
David
© Thomas Parnell
When e'er his flocks the lovely shepherd drove
To neighb'ring waters, to the neighb'ring grove;
To Jordan's flood refresh'd by cooling wind,
Or Cedron's brook to mossy banks confin'd,
In easy notes and guise of lowly swain,
'Twas thus he charm'd and taught the listning train.
Elegy IV
© Henry James Pye
The solemn hand of sable-suited night
Enwraps the silent earth with mantle drear;
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12:
© Conrad Aiken
The walls and roofs, the scarlet towers,
Sank down behind a rushing sky.
He heard a sweet song just begun
Abruptly shatter in tones and die.
It whirled away. Cold silence fell.
And again came tollings of a bell.
For music
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
ALONG the shore, along the shore
I see the wavelets meeting:
But thee I see--ah, never more,
For all my wild heart's beating.
To The Wissahiccon
© Frances Anne Kemble
My feet shall tread no more thy mossy side,
When once they turn away, thou Pleasant Water,
Italy : 16. St. Mark's Rest
© Samuel Rogers
Over how many tracts, vast, measureless,
Ages on ages roll, and none appear
Save the wild hunter ranging for his prey;
While on this spot of earth, the work of man,
Life
© Edith Wharton
We climbed the slopes of solitude, and there
Life met a god, who challenged her and said:
"Thy pipe against my lyre!" But "Wait!" she laughed,
And in my live flank dug a finger-hole,
And wrung new music from it. Ah, the pain!
"The Laughing Hours Before Her Feet"
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
The laughing Hours before her feet,
Are scattering spring-time roses,
The Rain
© Zbigniew Herbert
When my older brother
came back from war
he had on his forehead a little silver star
and under the star
an abyss
Aspirations
© Mathilde Blind
I.
I SAW thee in the streets, so wan and pale;
My heart, it shivered at the saddening sight;
Like a thin cloud thou wert, that though the sky doth sail,
And threatens to dissolve, each moment, on its flight.
The Sleepers
© Walt Whitman
I WANDER all night in my vision,
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and
stopping,
Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers,
Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, contradictory,
Pausing, gazing, bending, and stopping.
The Peace of God
© John Le Gay Brereton
So, in the bitter years when love and age
Sneered at the youth whose sturdy heart withheld
His hand from slaughter, till, in desperate plight,
He flung into the trampling equipage,
I have heard him mutter, as the music swelled,
The peace of God is on me. They were right.
Pauline Pavlovna
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Ah! your heart said that?
You trust your heart, then! 'T is a serious risk!-
How is it you and others wear no mask?
HE.
Tale
© Arthur Rimbaud
The Prince and the Genie annihilated each other probably in essential health.
How could they have helped dying of it?
Together then they died.
But this Prince died in his palace at an ordinary age,
the Prince was the Genie, the Genie was the Prince.--
There is no sovereign music for our desire.
The Australian Marseillaise
© Henry Lawson
We are marching on and onward
To the silver-streak of dawn,
To the dynasty of mankind
We are marching on.