In the storm, in the smoke, in the fight, I come To bring thee strength with my bugle and drum. My name is Music, — and when the bell Rings for the dead man, I rule the knell; And when the wrecked mariner hears in the blast The fog-bell sound, — it was I who passed. The poets have told you how I, a young maid, Came fresh from the gods to the myrtle shade, And thence by a power divine I stole To where the waters of Mincius roll; Then down by Clitumnus and Arno's vale I wandered, passionate and pale, Until I found me at sacred Rome, Where one of the Medici gave me a home. Leo, great Leo, he worshipped me, And the Vatican stairs for my foot were free; And now I am come to your glorious land, Give me great welcome with heart and hand. Remember Beethoven — I gave him his art — And Sebastian Bach and superb Mozart: Join them in my worship; and when the swell Of their mighty organs hath laid a spell On every sense, and they cares are drowned, Hear the voices of heaven through the men heaven hath crowned. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UNDER A PATCHED SAIL by MARIANNE MOORE THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE GARDEN SEAT by THOMAS HARDY MOCK EPITAPH ON MR. AND MRS. ESTLIN by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |