O POWER! whose organ is the tremulous air, Thou that not only to the accordant sense Unfoldest all a world of harsh and fair, But hast a far diviner influence, Submitting to inscrutable controul The finest elements of human soul; O mystic Sound! what heart can keep aloof, If summoned to acknowledge thy bland sway, As thou approachest in the golden woof Of luscious harmonies serene or gay? But thou hast moods I would not honor less, Thy simplest forms of moral kingliness. How did my childish ecstasy burst out, When first I found thy Echoes at my call! What blithe caprice of whisper, song, and shout, Woke the steep hill and challenged the long wall! How we @3did@1 laugh! I needed from that day Nor other playfellows nor other play. Further in life, when thoughts and feelings slept In my heart's tomb, some one particular tone Of common bells has stung me till I wept, And rushed away, oppressed by things foregone; For though the hours recalled be bright and glad, Still earnest memory ever will be sad. When late I changed the still unpeopled air Of the clear South for this my mother clime, I quivered with delight, as everywhere Sweet birds in happy snatches hailed the prime; A throstle's twitter made old walks arise, With lilac-bunches dancing in my eyes. What love we, about those we love the best, Better than their dear voices? At what cost Would one not gather to an aching breast Each little word of some whom we have lost? And oh! how blank to hear, in some far place, A voice we know, and see a stranger's face. I never hold my truth to God more leal Than when it thunders; that monotonous roll Has after-lightning potent to reveal Many dark words on Faith's sin-shaded scroll: Talk with a stormy sky, man! prone to deem That nothing @3is,@1 because of thine own Dream. And now within the hush of evening waves, Cast by light force upon a shingly shore, My Spirit rests; the ruins and fresh graves That strewed its earthly path here vex no more: Rocked on the soothing surge, its life is all One soft attraction and one mellow fall. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE THE HEART OF THE TREE by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER FIRST BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 11 by THOMAS CAMPION UPON THE SAYING THAT MY VERSES WERE MADE BY ANOTHER by ANNE KILLIGREW THE WHITE EAGLE by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THE SHEPHERD'S SONG: A CAROL OR HYMN FOR CHRISTMAS by EDMUND BOLTON DUSK-MEMORIES by ELLEN MAGRATH CARROLL THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE CANON'S YEOMAN'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER DAISY SWAIN, THE FLOWER OF SHENANDOAH; A TALE OF THE REBELLION: 9 by JOHN M. DAGNALL |