Music poems

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On The Death Of President Garfield

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

I SEE the Nation, as in antique ages,
Crouched with rent robes, and ashes on her head:
Her mournful eyes are deep with dark presages,
Her soul is haunted by a formless dread!

So silent is the world to-night
The lamp gives silence out like light,
The latticed windows open wide
Show silence, like the night, outside:
The nightingale's faint song draws near
Like musical silence to mine ear.

Lives

© Arthur Rimbaud

I remember silver hours and sunlight by the rivers,
the hand of the country on my shoulder
and our carresses standing on the spicy plains.--
A flight of scarlet pigeons thunders round my thoughts.

December 14

© David Lehman

This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere,
The tarnished, gaudy, wonderful old work
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
That never touch with inarticulate pang

Reconciliation

© Madison Julius Cawein

LISTEN, dearest! you must love me more,
More than you did before!
Hark, what a beating here of wings!
Never at rest,

Shake The Superflux!

© David Lehman

I like walking on streets as black and wet as this one
now, at two in the solemnly musical morning, when everyone else
in this town emptied of Lestrygonians and Lotus-eaters
is asleep or trying or worrying why

Love Lives Beyond The Tomb

© John Clare

Love lives beyond

The tomb, the earth, which fades like dew-

Book Sixth [Cambridge and the Alps]

© William Wordsworth

A passing word erewhile did lightly touch
On wanderings of my own, that now embraced
With livelier hope a region wider far.

The Accompanist by Dick Allen: American Life in Poetry #188 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-200

© Ted Kooser

I really like this poem by Dick Allen, partially for the way he so easily draws us in, with his easygoing, conversational style, but also for noticing what he has noticed, the overlooked accompanist there on the stage, in the shadow of the singer.

The Accompanist

A Birthday

© Alfred Austin

I love to think, when first I woke
Into this wondrous world,
The leaves were fresh on elm and oak,
And hawthorns laced and pearled.

The Cities Of The Plain

© John Greenleaf Whittier

"Get ye up from the wrath of God's terrible day!
Ungirded, unsandalled, arise and away!
'T is the vintage of blood, 't is the fulness of time,
And vengeance shall gather the harvest of crime!"

Sound Of Sleat

© Jackie Kay

I always looked out at the world,
And wondered if the world looked back at me,
Standing on the edge of something,
On my face- the wind from the cold sea.

You Gote-heard Gods

© Sir Philip Sidney

You Gote-heard Gods, that loue the grassie mountaines,
You Nimphes that haunt the springs in pleasant vallies,
You Satyrs ioyde with free and quiet forests,
Vouchsafe your silent eares to playning musique,
Which to my woes giues still an early morning;
And drawes the dolor on till wery euening.

The Swan Song of Parson Avery

© John Greenleaf Whittier

When the reaper's task was ended, and the summer wearing late,
Parson Avery sailed from Newbury, with his wife and children eight,
Dropping down the river-harbor in the shallop "Watch and Wait."

Astrophel And Stella-First Song

Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.

Parousia

© Louise Gluck

Love of my life, you
Are lost and I am
Young again.

The Night-Blooming Cereus

FLOWER of the moon!
Still white is her brow whom we worshiped on earth long ago;
Yea, purer than pearls in deep seas, and more virgin than snow.
The dull years veil their eyes from her shining, and vanish afraid,
Nor profane her with agethe immortal, nor dim her with shade.