MUSIC inspires me but to think of thee, For thou art of the music of the world -- A strain of that imperishable voice That speaks in beauty, harmony, and love. When Mozart wakes the gladness of my youth I see perpetual childhood in thy face. When Chopin, hand in hand with Love, leads on Through meadowy pleasures to the verge of pain, How near, how tender is thy beating heart! And oh, when from the skies Beethoven sounds His sure, triumphant song, how it vibrates Deep memories of thy reposeful soul! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CENSUS-TAKER by ROBERT FROST A VIGNETTE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A BALLAD OF DEAD GIRLS by DANA BURNET THE LITTLE ONES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 14. TROCHAIC VERSE: THE TENTH EPIGRAM by THOMAS CAMPION |