I love the dear old ballads best, That tell of love and death, Whose every line sings love's unrest Or mourns the parting breath. I love those songs the heart can feel, That make our pulses throb; When lovers plead or contrites kneel With chocking sigh and sob. God sings through songs that touch the heart, And none are prized save these. Though men may ply their gilded art For fortune, fame, or fees, The muse that sets the songster's soul Ablaze with lyric fire, Holds nature up, an open scroll, And builds art's funeral pyre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WILLOW POEM by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS PSALM 104: THE MAJESTY AND MERCY OF GOD by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE MEMORIAL DAY by WILLIAM E. BROOKS IN AFTER DAYS; RONDEAU by HENRY AUSTIN DOBSON A STRIP OF BLUE by LUCY LARCOM THE FOUNTAIN by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE COUNTRY CLERGYMAN'S TRIP TO CAMBRIDGE; ELECTION BALLAD by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY |