|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MUSIC; TO ETHEL BARTLETT AND RAE ROBERTSON (AFTER THEIR CONCERT), by JOHN FREEMAN Poet's Biography First Line: This was not music. Music is but notes Last Line: And fears of mortal ill. Subject(s): Barlett, Ethel (1896-1978); Duopianists; Music & Musicians; Robertson, Rae (1893-1956); Symphonies; Concerts | |||
THIS was not music. Music is but notes Crawling like ants across the crumpled page. But this was flowers, February's daring buds Confronting Winter's rage. This was not music, a tense repeated tapping, Hammer on wire: this was the wind stepping From hill to green-furred hill. This was a wood, taking the wind's loud crash; Or clouds, high-riding the west hemisphere. This was not music's hoarse laborious drone That speaks but to the ear. —No, this was water down a steep cliff falling Perpetually—falling, leaping and falling Down cliffs steep, dark and chill. Here were the waters of the seas upgathered In one Hand archangelic, caught and furled A moment in a cloud, then slowly loosed Upon the hushing world; Then in a snare of sunny channels caught, To purge the pestilence of mortal thought, And fears of mortal ill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SYMPHONIC STUDIES (AFTER ROBERT SCHUMANN) by EMMA LAZARUS PAPER ANNIVERSARY by MURIEL RUKEYSER AT A BACH CONCERT by ADRIENNE CECILE RICH THAT GENERAL UTILITY RAG, BY OUR OWN IRVING BERLIN by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A SPRING SYMPHONY by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR BEETHOVEN by ETHEL TONRY CARPENTER THE WORLD DICTATES by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES A NEW YEAR'S SYMPHONY by MARGARETTE BALL DICKSON |
| |