Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG OF THE GOLDEN LYRE, by JESSE WALKER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG OF THE GOLDEN LYRE, by                    
First Line: In those ages bright but olden
Last Line: Swelling, ringing evermore!
Subject(s): Harps; Musical Instruments; Lyres


"I LIE NOT"

In those ages bright but olden,
Called by ancient poets golden,
By Apollo I was made;
Gold my frame, and brightly burnished,
Golden sinews to me furnished,
And with diamonds all inlaid.

Sung I once of fields all gory,
By the warrior's deeds of glory—
Sung I requiems of the dead.
When in streams of blood were lying
Men of might, with faintness dying,
Mocked I then the prayers they said.

Led by lust of gold to battle,
Soldiers heard the fearful rattle
"Arms on armor clashing" made;
Pressed they with their bloody fingers
On my golden chords, where lingers
Still the golden strains I played.

Merchants, that to Afric's region
Went to bring the blackened legion,
Touched with hardened hand my strings;
Though I knew the monsters human
Sold their fellow-man and woman,
Sung I still of golden things.

Priests that, for the soul's pollution,
Sold to sinners absolution,
Bade me strike for them a song;
Thus, once more in ages olden,
I, with heart and sinews golden,
Did the golden notes prolong.

Lover,—he that sought a maiden—
One with golden beauty laden—
Listened to my golden voice;
Maiden,—she that heard him lisp her
Name, with many a golden whisper—
Did the golden song rejoice.

Old I am—my voice is wasting—
To decay my form is hasting;
And the songs of old I sung
Would I now be never singing,
For a voice is in me ringing,
Such as falls from angel's tongue.

Truth, forever bright and solemn—
Anthems from the holy volume—
Strains I never sung before;
Songs that seraphs sing in Heaven
To my chords shall now be given,
Swelling, ringing evermore!





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