Music poems
/ page 39 of 253 /
Sonnet XXXVIII. To Oliver Wendell Holmes. Aet 70.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
A FOUNTAIN in our green New England hills
Sent forth a brook, whose music, as I stood
To listen, laughed and sang through field and wood
With mingled melodies of joyous rills.
The Man Who Trod On Sleeping Grass
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
In a field by Cahirconlish
I stood on sleeping grass,
No cry I made to Heaven
From my dumb lips would pass.
The Loving Shepherdess
© Robinson Jeffers
She dreamed that a two-legged whiff of flame
Rose up from the house gable-peak crying, "Oh! Oh!"
And doubled in the middle and fled away on the wind
Like music above the bee-hives.
Stanzas For Music: They Say That Hope Is Happiness
© George Gordon Byron
They say that Hope is happiness;
But genuine Love must prize the past,
And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless:
They rose the first--they set the last;
Nuremberg
© Kenneth Slessor
So quiet it was in that high, sun-steeped room,
So warm and still, that sometimes with the light
Through the great windows, bright with bottle-panes,
Thered float a chime from clock-jacks out of sight,
Clapping iron mallets on green copper gongs.
Introito
© Ramon Lopez Velarde
Eramos aturdidos mozalbetes:
Blanco listón al codo, ayes agónicos,
Rimas atolondradas y juguetes.
The Wife Of All Ages
© Edith Nesbit
I DO not catch these subtle shades of feeling,
Your fine distinctions are too fine for me;
This meeting, scheming, longing, trembling, dreaming,
To me mean love, and only love, you see;
In me at least 'tis love, you will admit,
And you the only man who wakens it.
July
© John Le Gay Brereton
Twas Jack-o-Winter hailed it first,
But now more timid angels sing,
For what dull ear can fail to hear
Afar the fluting of the Spring?
Songs Set To Music: 13. Set By Mr. De Fesch
© Matthew Prior
Love! inform thy faithful creature
How to keep his fair one's heart;
Welcome To Frost
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O SPIRIT! at whose wafts of chilling breath
Autumn unbinds her zone, to rest in death;
Touched by whose blight the light of cordial days
Is lost in sombre browns and sullen grays;
My Soul And I
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Stand still, my soul, in the silent dark
I would question thee,
Alone in the shadow drear and stark
With God and me!
Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I
© Samuel Butler
His doublet was of sturdy buff,
And tho' not sword, yet cudgel-proof;
Whereby 'twas fitter for his use,
Who fear'd no blows, but such as bruise.
The Lost Ones
© Francis Ledwidge
But where are all the loves of long ago?
O little twilight ship blown up the tide,
Where are the faces laughing in the glow
Of morning years, the lost ones scattered wide
Give me your hand, O brother, let us go
Crying about the dark for those who died.
Telepathy
© James Russell Lowell
'And how could you dream of meeting?'
Nay, how can you ask me, sweet?
All day my pulse had been beating
The tune of your coming feet.
The Spring of Love
© Friedrich Rückert
Dearest, thy discourses steal
From my bosom's deep, my heart
How can I from thee conceal
My delight, my sorrow's smart?
Garden Dream
© Margaret Widdemer
But I was planting out my garden-close
With wands of lily and with slips of rose,
And their scented wavings made the air so sweet
That I could not listen to the trampling feet . . .
(Yet there blew a perfume from the garden-bed
That changed the evil weeds to white and red!)
At The Funeral Of A Minor Poet
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
[One of the Bearers Soliloquizes:]
. . . Room in your heart for him, O Mother Earth,
