FAIR Muse, beloved of all, thou art no high Imperious goddess of the mount or main, But a sweet maiden of the pastoral plain, To whom the hum of bees, the west wind's sigh, The lapse of waters murmuring tranquilly, Come, like soft music of a May-tide dream. Yet, times there are when some imperial theme, Born of a stormy sunset's marvellous sky, And heralded by thunder and fierce flame, Sweeps o'er thy vision with a mien sublime, And mighty voices, calling on thy name: Then dost thou rise, exultant, thrilled, inspired, Thy song a clarion lay that stirs our time, Hot from the soul some secret god hath fired! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE MAN WITH THE WOODEN LEG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT OLD BLACK MEN by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE REVENGE OF RAIN-IN-THE-FACE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE POET'S SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON WHEN I READ THE BOOK by WALT WHITMAN |