Music poems

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If thou art worn and hard beset
With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget,
If thou wouldst read a lesson, that will keep
Thy heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep,
Go to the woods and hills! No tears
Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.

Woods in Winter

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

When winter winds are piercing chill,
And through the hawthorn blows the gale,
With solemn feet I tread the hill,
That overbrows the lonely vale.

The Day is Done

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

Foster The Light

© Dylan Thomas

Foster the light nor veil the manshaped moon,
Nor weather winds that blow not down the bone,
But strip the twelve-winded marrow from his circle;
Master the night nor serve the snowman's brain
That shapes each bushy item of the air
Into a polestar pointed on an icicle.

A Child's Christmas In Wales

© Dylan Thomas

One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound
except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember
whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve
nights when I was six.

Within my Garden, rides a Bird

© Emily Dickinson

Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel --
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill --

What shall I do when the Summer troubles --

© Emily Dickinson

What shall I do when the Summer troubles --
What, when the Rose is ripe --
What when the Eggs fly off in Music
From the Maple Keep?

The Spirit lasts -- but in what mode --

© Emily Dickinson

The Spirit lasts -- but in what mode --
Below, the Body speaks,
But as the Spirit furnishes --
Apart, it never talks --

The Love a Life can show Below

© Emily Dickinson

The Love a Life can show Below
Is but a filament, I know,
Of that diviner thing
That faints upon the face of Noon --
And smites the Tinder in the Sun --
And hinders Gabriel's Wing --

The fascinating chill that music leaves

© Emily Dickinson

The fascinating chill that music leaves
Is Earth's corroboration
Of Ecstasy's impediment --
'Tis Rapture's germination

The Birds begun at Four o'clock --

© Emily Dickinson

The Birds begun at Four o'clock --
Their period for Dawn --
A Music numerous as space --
But neighboring as Noon --

The Bird her punctual music brings

© Emily Dickinson

The Bird her punctual music brings
And lays it in its place --
Its place is in the Human Heart
And in the Heavenly Grace --

Summer for thee, grant I may be

© Emily Dickinson

Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whipporwill
And Oriole -- are done!

Of Being is a Bird

© Emily Dickinson

Of Being is a Bird
The likest to the Down
An Easy Breeze do put afloat
The General Heavens -- upon --

No Bobolink -- reverse His Singing

No Bobolink -- reverse His Singing
When the only Tree
Ever He minded occupying
By the Farmer be --

Her smile was shaped like other smiles --

Her smile was shaped like other smiles --
The Dimples ran along --
And still it hurt you, as some Bird
Did hoist herself, to sing,

Dying at my music!

Dying at my music!
Bubble! Bubble!
Hold me till the Octave's run!
Quick! Burst the Windows!
Ritardando!
Phials left, and the Sun!

Better -- than Music! For I -- who heard it --

Better -- than Music! For I -- who heard it --
I was used -- to the Birds -- before --
This -- was different -- 'Twas Translation --
Of all tunes I knew -- and more --

The Wind -- tapped like a tired Man

The Wind -- tapped like a tired Man --
And like a Host -- "Come in"
I boldly answered -- entered then
My Residence within

The Doomed -- regard the Sunrise

The Doomed -- regard the Sunrise
With different Delight --
Because -- when next it burns abroad
They doubt to witness it --