Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TRUMPETS IN LOHENGRIN, by HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD



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TRUMPETS IN LOHENGRIN, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Hark! 'tis the golden trumpets of the dawn
Last Line: Blown to him from the kingdom of the grail!
Subject(s): Trumpets


Hark! 'Tis the golden trumpets of the dawn
Sounding the day!
Music, O Music fain!
From rosy reaches drawn,
And fall of silver rain,
Along the call how swift the sunrise streams!
Sound, sound again,
O magical refrain!

Peal on peal winding through the dewy air,
Peal on peal answering far off and fair,
Peal on peal bursting in victorious blare!
Sound, sound again,
With your delicious pain,
O wild sweet haunting strain,
Till the sky swell with hint of heavenly gleams
And the heart break with gladness loosed from dreams!
What buoyant spirit breathes the breath of morn
And earth's delight,
Trumpets, O trumpets blest!
Great voices, born
Of consecrated gest,
Across the ramparts ring and faint and fail!
O echoes, pressed
On some ethereal quest,
Touch all the joyance to a tearful dew,
With melancholy gathering o'er the blue —
Infinite hope, infinite sorrow, too!
And, heard, or guessed,
Sweet, sweet, O sweet and best,
Fall'n from some skyey crest,
O horns of heaven, give your hero hail,
Blown to him from the Kingdom of the Grail!





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