Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HYMN TO THE AUTHOR OF THESE HYMNS, by PAUL FORT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HYMN TO THE AUTHOR OF THESE HYMNS, by                    
First Line: O'er realms of song an uncrowned king all things beneath the sun I
Last Line: Wood! It is your shade, your shade, your shade, o dreaming wood! . . .
Subject(s): Authors & Authorship; Singing & Singers; Songs


O'er realms of song an uncrowned King all things beneath the sun I sing. I have
sung the seasons, the hills, the sea, my joyous moods, my cloudy woes. I have
sung the calm serenity that from the forest flows. Since life began all things
I've proved, all things have suffered, all things loved. O'er realms of song an
uncrowned King all things beneath the sun I sing.

Ah, I have sung in admirable phrase when I could raise in air, free, my two
hands to the sun. My voice has read the glorious symbols drawn in an unknown and
mystic book of prayer. From my lips and from my heart imperious, soaring echoes
start from the hid and secret ways. Ah, I have sung in admirable phrase when I
could raise in air, free, my two hands to the sun.

All I have hymned, I have sung the golden sun, ogive of brightness set in the
infinite of the skies, the winged dawn with shimmering rays that flit from hedge
to hedge, aurora, one great rose above the glimmering wood, the noon's red glows
that tint the air with glints of ripened fruit, and the silver moon that rocks
the dream of night. All things composed my song. I have sung the light. In the
harmony of eve I have sung the infinite.

But what I sang with faith most free from base alloy, what I have understood
with the profoundest joy, is your deep calm, your solitary heart, enchanted
wood! It is your shade, your shade, your shade, O dreaming wood! . . .





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