The song that bursts and shatters The death-sleep of the night, And tears our dreams to tatters, Is shorn of sheer delight -- The whole was stolen boldly From every foe and friend. Yet who could listen coldly; Be moral -- to the end, When above each rounded note Rises high the thinner Music never sung by rote -- Anguish of a sinner? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DIRGE FOR A SOLDIER [SEPTEMBER 1, 1862] by GEORGE HENRY BOKER WHAT SHALL IT PROFIT? by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS ODE [FOR MUSIC] ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY by ALEXANDER POPE THE SPOUSE TO THE BELOVED by WILLIAM BALDWIN |