'T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets forth the pent-up melody inside, Your spirit's harmony, which clear and strong Sings but of you. Throughout your whole life long Your songs, your thoughts, your doings, each divide This perfect beauty; waves within a tide, Or single notes amid a glorious throng. The song of earth has many different chords; Ocean has many moods and many tones Yet always ocean. In the damp Spring woods The painted trillium smiles, while crisp pine cones Autumn alone can ripen. So is this One music with a thousand cadences. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE INFLATION OF THE CURRENCY, 1919 by ROBERT FROST ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST ITALIAN PICTURES: THE COSTA SAN GIORGIO by MINA LOY SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OAKS TUTT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE |