THE wailful sweetness of the violin Floats down the hushed waters of the wind, The heart-strings of the throbbing harp begin To long in aching music. Spirit-pined, In wafts that poignant sweetness drifts, until The wounded soul ooze sadness. The red sun, A bubble of fire, drops slowly toward the hill, While one bird prattles that the day is done. O setting Sun, that as in reverent days Sinkest in music to thy smoothed sleep, Discrowned of homage, though yet crowned with rays, Hymned not at harvest more, though reapers reap: For thee this music wakes not. O deceived, If thou hear in these thoughtless harmonies A pious phantom of adorings reaved, And echo of fair ancient flatteries! Yet, in this field where the Cross planted reigns, I know not what strange passion bows my head To thee, whose great command upon my veins Proves thee a god for me not dead, not dead! For worship it is too incredulous, For doubt -- oh, too believing-passionate! What wild divinity makes my heart thus A fount of most baptismal tears? -- Thy straight Long beam lies steady on the Cross. Ah me! What secret would thy radiant finger show? Of thy bright mastership is this the key? Is @3this@1 thy secret, then? And is it woe? Fling from thine ear the burning curls, and hark A song thou hast not heard in Northern day; For Rome too daring, and for Greece too dark, Sweet with wild wings that pass, that pass away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STROLLER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE AGONY [AGONIE] by GEORGE HERBERT THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 71 by OMAR KHAYYAM ASOLANDO: 'IMPERANTE AUGUSTO NATUS EST' by ROBERT BROWNING TO OUR GIRLS by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR AN OLD TOMB OPENED by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY: INTRODUCTORY by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY |