Music poems
/ page 76 of 253 /Prologue To Faulkener
© Charles Lamb
The genius who conceived that magic tale
Was skilled by native pathos to prevail.
His stories, though rough-drawn and framed in haste,
Had that which pleased our homely grandsires' taste.
Pippa Passes: Part III: Evening
© Robert Browning
Mother
If there blew wind, you'd hear a long sigh, easing
The utmost heaviness of music's heart.
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 02:
© Conrad Aiken
You readwhat is it, then that you are reading?
What music moves so silently in your mind?
Your bright hand turns the page.
I watch you from my window, unsuspected:
You move in an alien land, a silent age . . .
Homage to Hieronymus Bosch
© Thomas MacGreevy
A woman with no face walked into the light;
A boy, in a brown-tree norfolk suit,
Holding on
Without hands
To her seeming skirt.
Poems Of Joys
© Walt Whitman
O to make the most jubilant poem!
Even to set off these, and merge with these, the carols of Death.
O full of music! full of manhood, womanhood, infancy!
Full of common employments! full of grain and trees.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XV. -- A Little Bird In
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A little bird in the air
Is singing of Thyri the fair,
The Bride Of The Nile - Act III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
(Enter Barix and Boïlas conversing.)
Barix. I always said it, Boïlas, it must come at last,
The day of annexation. Things have moved on fast,
Faster than we quite thought a week or two ago.
The mills of Rome grind slowly--quite absurdly slow.
It comes to the same thing.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf VIII. -- Gudrun
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On King Olaf's bridal night
Shines the moon with tender light,
And across the chamber streams
Its tide of dreams.
An Old Contemptible
© William Henry Ogilvie
Along the road the ceaseless motors thrust,
Shrieking discordant warning and harsh blame.
Then, suddenly, proud stepping through the dust,
Comes what I '11 call for want of better name
One of the Old Contemptibles.
The Last Giustianini
© Edith Wharton
O WIFE, wife, wife! As if the sacred name
Could weary one with saying! Once again
Laying against my brow your lips' soft flame,
Join with me, Sweetest, in love's new refrain,
Since the whole music of my late-found life
Is that we call each other "husband -- wife."
The Two Lovers Of Heaven: Chrysanthus And Daria - Act I
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Chrysanthus is seen seated near a writing table on which are several
books: he is reading a small volume with deep attention.
Prejudice
© Jane Taylor
It is not worth our while, but if it were,
We all could undertake to laugh at her ;
Since vulgar prejudice, the lowest kind,
Of course, has full possession of her mind ;
Here, therefore, let us leave her, and inquire
Wherein it differs as it rises higher.
A Day Dream
© Emily Jane Brontë
On a sunny brae alone I lay
One summer afternoon;
It was the marriage-time of May,
With her young lover, June.
To John Nichol: Sonnets
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
FRIEND of the dead, and friend of all my days
Even since they cast off boyhood, I salute
Prototypes
© Madison Julius Cawein
Whether it be that we in letters trace
The pure exactness of a wood bird's strain,
The Union
© Alfred Noyes
You that have gathered together the sons of all races,
And welded them into one,
Lifting the torch of your Freedom on hungering faces
That sailed to the setting sun;
God Speaks
© Lesbia Harford
I made a heaven for you filled with stars,
Each star a song
Meant to give happy music to your ear,
Day and night long.
The Passing Of Spring
© Alfred Austin
Spring came out of the woodland chase,
With her violet eyes and her primrose face,
With an iris scarf for her sole apparel,
And a voice as blithe as a blackbird's carol.
Stanzas Composed During A Thunder-storm
© George Gordon Byron
Chill and mirk is the nightly blast,
Where Pindus' mountains rise,
And angry clouds are pouring fast
The vengeance of the skies.