The foot of Time so soundless never pass'd As when sweet fancy wove her magic thralls - Go, mourner, to the Muses, haste thee, haste, And bring thy griefs where Peter's shadow falls To heal thee in his passing: call for aid Of joy, that quenches being and its gall - Sad! that the consciousness of Life must fade Before the bliss it yields be felt at all: We cannot sit, inertly calm'd, to hear The silence broken by the step of life; We must have music while we languish here, Loud music, to annul our spirit's strife, To make the soul with pleasant fancies rife, And soothe the stranger from another sphere! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ANDREA DEL SARTO (CALLED THE FAULTLESS PAINTER) by ROBERT BROWNING COUNT THAT DAY LOST by MARY ANN EVANS THE NEGRO SPEAKS OF RIVERS by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES FOREIGN CHILDREN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON LINES TO ROBERT ALDERSON UPON HIS DEPARTURE FROM WARRINGTON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |