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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
REVELATION, by LOUIS UNTERMEYER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: September-and an afternoon Last Line: And the heavens, a jubilant chorus, are flushed with the fires of song! Alternate Author Name(s): Lewis, Michael Subject(s): Calm; Peace; Silence; Placid; Undisturbed; Tranquility | |||
SEPTEMBER—and an afternoon Heavy with languid thoughts and long; The air breathes faintly, half in swoon, Like silence trembling after Song. The mighty calmness seems to draw My spirit through a painless birth— And now, with eyes that never saw, I see the poetry of earth. That group of old maple-trees brooding in peace by the river, Happy with sunlight, and an oriole singing among them— Lo, what a marvel (what rapture for Him who first sung them) That here, in less space than a carpenter's workshop, the Giver Has fashioned a casual wonder Greater than dawn or the thunder. Here in a dozen of feet He has blended Music and motion and color and form, Each in itself a creation so splendid That, were it the world's one beauty, 'twould warm And kindle all Life till it ended. Birds and old maple-trees— Only to think of these, Only to dream of them here for an hour Is to know all the secrets of earth. For here is the world that God sang into flower And bloom at its birth— Here is its magical uplift and power; Its music and mirth. Here the sun scarcely wakes; Like a monarch it takes Rest on the lordliest branches alone. Till a glad tremor shakes Every leaf that is blown— While a zephyr advancing, Breathes gently and breaks The light into dancing Figures, with glancing Rhythms and rhymes of their own. Yes, here in this spot, in this edge of an acre All of the world is, the heart and the whole of it— Here is a universe; daily the Maker Shows here the sweet and extravagant soul of it. For the arms of the maple have held in their cover The earth and the sky and the stars, every one— Not the tenderest twig but has known, like a lover The silence, the night and the sun. Not the airiest bird but has sung, all unknowing, The joy of each minstrel that carols unheard. And Summer, green fields and a world of things growing, Are brought to this spot by the breath of a bird. And there's never a wind but brings road-sides and ranches, Forests and tales of the far-off and free— And the rush of the breeze as it sings in the branches Echoes and answers the rush of the sea... A group of old maple-trees brooding in peace by the river— That—and a bird, nothing else...But above and around it, The spell of the infinite beauty, half-hidden forever, Lies, like a secret of God's—and here I have found it. The hymn of the cosmic—the anthem that has for its choir Stars, rivers and flowers—still rises and sweeps me along; While the cry of the oriole melts in a sunset of fire And the heavens, a jubilant chorus, are flushed with the fires of Song! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A COTTAGE IN THE MIDST' by KENNETH REXROTH STILL ON WATER by KENNETH REXROTH THE LOVE POEMS OF MARICHIKO: 6 by KENNETH REXROTH TO A FRIEND by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD PAX BRITANNICA by ALFRED AUSTIN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA NIGHT (STRAITS OF CARQUINEZ) by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A BIRTHDAY by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |
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