I AM the thing round which the aureole Of music hung, now like an empty bowl, Reft of the living wine that was its soul! Lo, I am as the rose that once was red, Its fragrance gone, its glowing petals shed; I am the body with the spirit fled! And yet about me like an unseen flame That raptured mystic worshipers acclaim, Hovers a melody that none may name, Impalpable save to anointed ears; Yet he who hath true divination hears Harmonies chorded with the swinging spheres; For naught of loveliness can vanish quite, But lingers near us, be it sound or sight, One with the whole, one with the infinite! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I LOVE ALL BEAUTEOUS THINGS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES MELANCHOLIA by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR OF THE MANNER OF ADDRESSING CLOUDS by WALLACE STEVENS THE DESTINY OF GENIUS by MARIA ABDY SELF-DECEPTION by MATTHEW ARNOLD HOURS OF RECREATION by LEVI BISHOP RECOGNITION by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |