When music sounds, gone is the earth I know, And all her lovely things even lovelier grow; Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies. When music sounds, out of the water rise Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes, Rapt in strange dreams burns each enchanted face, With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place. When music sounds, all that I was I am Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came; While from Time's woods break into distant song The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IKE WALTON'S PRAYER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY THE GOLDEN ODES OF PRE-ISLAMIC ARABIA: LEBID by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ATTUNED by JULIEN AUGUSTE PELAGE BRIZEUX ADDRESS TO EDINBURGH by ROBERT BURNS VAIN REPENTANCE by PHOEBE CARY THE MOTHER WHO HAS A CHILD AT SEA by ELIZA COOK |