Music poems
/ page 44 of 253 /A Modest Request
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SCENE,--a back parlor in a certain square,
Or court, or lane,--in short, no matter where;
Time,--early morning, dear to simple souls
Who love its sunshine and its fresh-baked rolls;
Persons,--take pity on this telltale blush,
That, like the AEthiop, whispers, "Hush, oh hush!"
The Spirit Of The Ideal
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Sweet sister spirits, ye whose starlight tresses
Stream on the night-winds as ye float along,
Missioned with hope to man-and with caresses
To ----
© George MacDonald
I cannot write old verses here,
Dead things a thousand years away,
When all the life of the young year
Is in the summer day.
Welcome To The Grand Duke Alexis
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SHADOWED so long by the storm-cloud of danger,
Thou whom the prayers of an empire defend,
Welcome, thrice welcome! but not as a stranger,
Come to the nation that calls thee its friend!
Romancin'
© James Whitcomb Riley
I' b'en a-kindo musin', as the feller says, and I'm
About o' the conclusion that they ain't no better time,
When you come to cipher on it, than the times we used to know
When we swore our first "dog-gone-it" sorto solem'-like and low!
To A Young Lady, On Being Too Fond Of Music
© Charles Lamb
Why is your mind thus all day long
Upon your music set;
Till reason's swallowed in a song,
Or idle canzonet?
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto II
© Richard Savage
What scene of agony the garden brings;
The cup of gall; the suppliant king of kings!
The crown of thorns; the cross, that felt him die;
These, languid in the sketch, unfinish'd lie.
The Happy Shepherd
© Phineas Fletcher
Thrice, oh, thrice happy, shepherd's life and state!
When courts are happiness' unhappy pawns!
Conscience
© George Herbert
Peace, pratler, do not lowre:
Not a fair look, but thou dost call it foul:
Not a sweet dish, but thou dost call it sowre:
Musick to thee doth howl.
By listning to thy chatting fears
I have both lost mine eyes and eares.
Aurora Leigh: Book Seventh
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I broke on Marian there. "Yet she herself,
A wife, I think, had scandals of her own,-
A lover not her husband."
A Voyager's Dream Of Land
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
The hollow dash of waves!–the ceaseless roar!
Silence, ye billows! vex my soul no more.
The Pleasures of Memory - Part II.
© Samuel Rogers
Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale,
Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail,
To view the fairy-haunts of long-lost hours.
Blest with far greener shades, far fresher flowers.
Tannhauser
© Emma Lazarus
Far into Wartburg, through all Italy,
In every town the Pope sent messengers,
Riding in furious haste; among them, one
Who bore a branch of dry wood burst in bloom;
The pastoral rod had borne green shoots of spring,
And leaf and blossom. God is merciful.
A Dream Of Venice
© Ada Cambridge
Numb, half asleep, and dazed with whirl of wheels,
And gasp of steam, and measured clank of chains,
The Forest Sanctuary - Part II.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Ave, sanctissima!
'Tis night-fall on the sea;
Ora pro nobis!
Our souls rise to thee!
The Traveller; or, A Prospect of Society
© Oliver Goldsmith
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow
Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,
Blind Old Milton
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun
May shine upon my old and time-worn head,
At The Feast
© Edith Nesbit
EVOLVING, changing, onwards still we press--
We must advance, invent, construct, possess;
No matter what a price we have to pay,
We must obtain perfection, and no less--