Music poems

 / page 234 of 253 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Honor To Woman

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Honor to woman! To her it is given
To garden the earth with the roses of heaven!
All blessed, she linketh the loves in their choir
In the veil of the graces her beauty concealing,
She tends on each altar that's hallowed to feeling,
And keeps ever-living the fire!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Hero And Leander

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

See you the towers, that, gray and old,
Frown through the sunlight's liquid gold,
Steep sternly fronting steep?
The Hellespont beneath them swells,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Ode to Fanny

© John Keats

Physician Nature! Let my spirit blood!
O ease my heart of verse and let me rest;
Throw me upon thy Tripod, till the flood
Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

How Many Bards Gild The Lapses Of Time!

© John Keats

How many bards gild the lapses of time!
A few of them have ever been the food
Of my delighted fancy,—I could brood
Over their beauties, earthly, or sublime:

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Isabella or The Pot of Basil

© John Keats

I.
Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!
Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye!
They could not in the self-same mansion dwell

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Endymion: Book II

© John Keats

He heard but the last words, nor could contend
One moment in reflection: for he fled
Into the fearful deep, to hide his head
From the clear moon, the trees, and coming madness.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Endymion: Book III

© John Keats

"Young man of Latmos! thus particular
Am I, that thou may'st plainly see how far
This fierce temptation went: and thou may'st not
Exclaim, How then, was Scylla quite forgot?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Ode To Autumn

© John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Endymion: Book IV

© John Keats

Endymion to heaven's airy dome
Was offering up a hecatomb of vows,
When these words reach'd him. Whereupon he bows
His head through thorny-green entanglement
Of underwood, and to the sound is bent,
Anxious as hind towards her hidden fawn.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Endymion: Book I

© John Keats

This said, he rose, faint-smiling like a star
Through autumn mists, and took Peona's hand:
They stept into the boat, and launch'd from land.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Eve Of St. Agnes

© John Keats

St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was!
The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold;
The hare limp'd trembling through the frozen grass,
And silent was the flock in woolly fold:

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Hyperion

© John Keats

BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour

© John Keats

Give me a golden pen, and let me lean
On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far;
Bring me a tablet whiter than a star,
Or hand of hymning angel, when 'tis seen

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Autumn

© John Keats

I
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Ode To A Nightingale

© John Keats

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To my son

© John Matthew

Don’t be a slave to the work,
Of smart slave-drivers in cubicles,
Instead explore the works of men,
Who have experienced the truths,
And distilled in their words, wisdoms,
Which may grate your ears now.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

In a Churchyard

© Richard Wilbur

That flower unseen, that gem of purest ray,
Bright thoughts uncut by men:
Strange that you need but speak them, Thomas Gray,
And the mind skips and dives beyond its ken,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

In the Smoking Car

© Richard Wilbur

The eyelids meet. He'll catch a little nap.
The grizzled, crew-cut head drops to his chest.
It shakes above the briefcase on his lap.
Close voices breathe, "Poor sweet, he did his best."

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Tilly

© James Joyce

He travels after a winter sun,
Urging the cattle along a cold red road,
Calling to them, a voice they know,
He drives his beasts above Cabra.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Strings in the Earth and Air

© James Joyce

Strings in the earth and air
Make music sweet;
Strings by the river where
The willows meet.