Classic and Contemporary Poetry
QUATORZAINS: 9. TO MY LYRE, by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: My lyre! Thou art the bower of my senses Last Line: Till silence comes and smothers her pert jars. Subject(s): Harps; Musical Instruments; Lyres | ||||||||
MY Lyre! thou art the bower of my senses, Where they may sleep in tuneful visions bound; These trembling chords shall be their breeze-kissed fences, Which are with music's tendrils warmly wound, As with some creeping shrub, which sweets dispenses And on each quivering stalk blossoms a sound. My lyre! thou art the barred prison grate Where shackled melody a bond-maid sleeps, And taunting breezes as her torturers wait: With radiant joy the hapless prisoner peeps And sings delight, with freedom's hope elate, When some fair hand upon the surface sweeps; And still she beats against the prison bars, Till silence comes and smothers her pert jars. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GHOSTS LISTEN TO ORPHEUS SING by GREGORY ORR TO AN AEOLIAN HARP by SARA TEASDALE THE AEOLIAN HARP by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE MASTER-PLAYER by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE HARP by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE AEOLIAN HARP; AT THE SURF INN by HERMAN MELVILLE THAT HARP YOU PLAY SO WELL by MARIANNE MOORE RUMORS FROM AN AEOLIAN HARP by HENRY DAVID THOREAU AEOLIAN HARP (1) by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM BALLAD OF HUMAN LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: DIRGE FOR WOLFRAM by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SAILORS' [OR MARINERS'] SONG by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |
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