Soul, that in music, as a flower in light, Didst gem and bloom and vanish with a breath That mist-like o'er the sullen tide of death Keeps fragrant still the memory of thy flight; Dost thou, immortal, on the topmost height Of harmony, forget the world beneath And all its chords tumultuous? Wandereth No echo upwards through the sundering night? Aye, notes of thine own making, now forlorn, Like fledglings fluttered from the nest of love, Tell of thy care, while with harmonious wing They fan the depths of silence, listening To hear anon thy mandate from above, Hence to their home, thy bosom, to return. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET (2) by ISAAC ROSENBERG INTERIM by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY LITTLE BROWN BABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WINDSOR FOREST by ALEXANDER POPE VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 18 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |