In the great Church the holy organ stood, And took in all its lauds a glorious part, Affecting every listener's ear and heart With its own plaintive or ecstatic mood. O thunderbolt of war! what did'st thou there? Methinks, it suited with thy function more, To burst the war-drum, or explode the store, Or spurn their eagles into drift, than bear Down on this ark of praise with hostile force: They knew not, when they sped thee on thy course, That thou would'st jar with sweet Saint Cecily And their own Handel, swooping from the sky To storm the organ with one crashing blow, As though it were a fortress of the foe! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RUNAWAY SLAVE AT PILGRIM'S POINT by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE LEADEN-EYED by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY PHILOMELA by JOHN CROWE RANSOM ALL THINGS CAN TEMPT ME by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS FRIAR JEROME'S BEAUTIFUL BOOK; A.D. 1200 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |