Music poems
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The Two Dreams
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
I WILL that if I say a heavy thing
Your tongues forgive me; seeing ye know that spring
Seeing the Eclipse in Maine by Robert Bly: American Life in Poetry #165 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laurea
© Ted Kooser
In âThe Moose,â? a poem much too long to print here, the late Elizabeth Bishop was able to show a community being created from a group of strangers on a bus who come in contact with a moose on the highway. They watch it together and become one. Here Robert Bly of Minnesota assembles a similar community, around an eclipse. Notice how the experience happens to âwe,â? the group, not just to âme,â? the poet.
Seeing the Eclipse in Maine
It started about noon. On top of Mount Batte,
We were all exclaiming. Someone had a cardboard
And a pin, and we all cried out when the sun
Appeared in tiny form on the notebook cover.
Bach in the DC Subway by David Lee Garrison : American Life in Poetry #239 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Lau
© Ted Kooser
It’s likely that if you found the original handwritten manuscript of T. S. Eliot’s groundbreaking poem, “The Waste Land,” you wouldn’t be able to trade it for a candy bar at the Quick Shop on your corner. Here’s a poem by David Lee Garrison of Ohio about how unsuccessfully classical music fits into a subway.
Bach in the DC Subway
As an experiment,
Longfellow Dead
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AY, it is well! Crush back your selfish tears;
For from the half-veiled face of earthly spring
Hath he not risen on heaven-aspiring wing
To reach the spring-tide of the eternal years?
How Can I Keep From Singing?
© Robert Wadsworth Lowry
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earths lamentation
Proem To A Voice On The Wind And Other Poems
© Madison Julius Cawein
Oh, for a soul that fulfills
Music like that of a bird!
Thrilling with rapture the hills,
Heedless if any one heard.
Queen Venus
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Queen Venus on a day of cloud
Forsook heaven's argent palaces,
Beneath the roofing vapours bowed
And sought a promontory loud
Solomon
© Thomas Parnell
But long expectance of a bliss delay'd
Breeds anxious doubt, and tempts the sacred maid;
Then mists arising strait repel the light,
The colour'd garden lies disguis'd with night,
A pale-horn'd crescent leads a glimm'ring throng,
And groans of absence jarr within the song.
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto IX.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
III Disappointment
The bliss which woman's charms bespeak,
I've sought in many, found in none!
In many 'tis in vain you seek
What can be found in only one.
Invocation
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Through Thy clear spaces, Lord, of old,
Formless and void the dead earth rolled;
Deaf to Thy heaven's sweet music, blind
To the great lights which o'er it shined;
No sound, no ray, no warmth, no breath,--
A dumb despair, a wandering death.
Nature At Ease
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I FEEL the kisses of this lingering breeze,
Warm, close, and ardent as the lips of love,
I quaff the sunshine streaming from above,
Like mellow wine of antique vintages;
Adagio
© François Coppée
Depuis, je mène ailleurs mes promenades lentes.
Moi qui hais et qui fuis les foules turbulentes,
Je regrette parfois ce vieux coin négligé.
Mais la vieille ruelle a, dit-on, bien changé :
Les enfants d'alentour y vont jouer aux billes,
Et d'autres pianos l'emplissent de quadrilles.
Alfred And Janet
© Robert Bloomfield
At thirteen she was all that Heaven could send,
My nurse, my faithful clerk, my lively friend;
Last at my pillow when I sunk to sleep,
First on my threshold soon as day could peep:
I heard her happy to her heart's desire,
With clanking pattens, and a roaring fire.
The Circling Hearths
© Roderic Quinn
MY Countrymen, though we are young as yet
With little history, nought to show
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
How long they sat thus silent who shall say?
Griselda knew not. Time was far away;
She wanted courage to prepare her heart
For that last bitterest word of all, ``We part.''
And he cared naught for time. His Heaven was there,
Nor needed thought, nor speech, nor even prayer.
The Secret
© James Russell Lowell
I have a fancy: how shall I bring it
Home to all mortals wherever they be?
Say it or sing it? Shoe it or wing it,
So it may outrun or outfly ME,
Merest cocoon-web whence it broke free?
Tekel
© Edith Nesbit
WHEN on the West broke light from out the East,
Then from the splendour and the shame of Rome--
