Music poems

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Hide Me In Your Heart

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Hide me in your heart, Love,
None but we can know
How with every heart--beat
Love could grow and grow

The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto II.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

III Lais and Lucretia
Did first his beauty wake her sighs?
That's Lais! Thus Lucretia's known:
The beauty in her Lover's eyes
Was admiration of her own.

Rural Morning

© John Clare

And now, when toil and summer's in its prime,
In every vill, at morning's earliest time,
To early-risers many a Hodge is seen,
And many a Dob's heard clattering oer the green.

The Ghost

© Kenneth Slessor

"BEES of old Spanish wine
Pipe at this Inn to-night,
Music and candleshine
Fill the dim chambers . . . .

The Tram (In The Midlands)

© Robert Laurence Binyon

III
A boy with a bunch of primroses!
He sits uneasy, flushed of cheek,
With wandering eyes and does not speak:
His hands are hot; the flowers are his.

My Lost Youth. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Often I think of the beautiful town

That is seated by the sea;

Genesis BK XVII

© Caedmon

(ll. 1002-1005) Then the Lord of glory spake unto Cain, and asked
where Abel was. Quickly the cursed fashioner of death made
answer unto Him:

To Play Pianissimo by Lola Haskins: American Life in Poetry #43 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-

Lola Haskins, who lives in Florida, has written a number of poems about musical terms, entitled "Adagio," "Allegrissimo," "Staccato," and so on. Here is just one of those, presenting the gentleness of pianissimo playing through a series of comparisons
To Play Pianissimo

Does not mean silence.
The absence of moon in the day sky
for example.

At Eleusis

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I, at Eleusis, saw the finest sight,
When early morning's banners were unfurled.
From high Olympus, gazing on the world,
The ancient gods once saw it with delight.

In The Harbour: Possibilities

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Where are the Poets, unto whom belong

The Olympian heights; whose singing shafts were sent

Phantasies

© Emma Lazarus

Rest, beauty, stillness: not a waif of a cloud
From gray-blue east sheer to the yellow west-
No film of mist the utmost slopes to shroud.

Stanzas

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

STRANGE! that one lightly whispered tone
Is far, far sweeter unto me,
Than all the sounds that kiss the earth,
Or breathe along the sea;
But, lady, when thy voice I greet,
Not heavenly music seems so sweet.

From "The Court Of Fancy"

© Thomas Godfrey

'T was sultry noon; impatient of the heat

I sought the covert of a close retreat:

Rain

© Anonymous

Millions of massive rain-drops
Have fallen all around;
They have danced on the house-tops,
They have hidden in the ground.

The Dark Angel

DARK Angel, with thine aching lust
To rid the world of penitence:
Malicious Angel, who still dost
My soul such subtile violence!

To Hope

OH come, thou power divine,

Thou lovely spirit with the wings of light,

Touch the Sleeping Strings Again

Touch the sleeping strings and
tell me, tell me whether,
Thence comes music sweet and low:
Did not we walk some shore together
Beyond the sea of Long Ago?

The Loom of Years

© Alfred Noyes

In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea,

In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree,

Shemselnihar

O my lover! the night like a broad smooth wave
Bears us onward, and morn, a black rock, shines wet.
How I shuddered-I knew not that I was a slave,
Till I looked on thy face:- then I writhed in the net.
Then I felt like a thing caught by fire, that her star
Glowed dark on the bosom of Shemselnihar.