SLOWLY and softly let the music go, As ye wind upwards to the gray church tower; Check the shrill hautboy, let the pipe breathe low -- Tread lightly on the pathside daisy flower. For she ye carry was a gentle bud, Loved by the unsunn'd drops of silver dew; Her voice was like the whisper of the wood In prime of even, when the stars are few. Lay her all gently in the flowerful mould, Weep with her one brief hour; then turn away, -- Go to hope's prison, -- and from out the cold And solitary gratings many a day Look forth: 'tis said the world is growing old, -- And streaks of orient light in Time's horizon play. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SYMPATHY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JOHN ERICSSON DAY MEMORIAL, 1918 by CARL SANDBURG THE VOLUNTEER by HERBERT HENRY ASQUITH MONTEREY [SEPTEMBER 23, 1846] by CHARLES FENNO HOFFMAN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: BENJAMIN PANTIER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS STEADFASTNESS; THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS by THOMAS WYATT MY CRYSTAL BRIDE by WILLIAM EDWARD ADAMS |