To me all beauty that I see Is melody made visible: An earth-translated state, may be, Of music heard in Heaven or Hell. Out of some love-impassioned strain Of saints, the rose evolved its bloom; And, dreaming of it here again, Perhaps re-lives it as perfume. Out of some chant that demons sing Of hate and pain, the sunset grew; And, haply, still remembering, Re-lives it here as some wild hue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LOVE SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR LULLABY IN BETHLEHEM by HENRY HOWARTH BASHFORD BRIEF LIFE by KATHARINE LEE BATES LOVE IS MASTER STILL by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT REINCARNATION by J. R. I. BROOKE LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - FEBRUARY 1807 (1) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |