Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SYMPHONY, by ROBERTSON TROWBRIDGE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SYMPHONY, by                    
First Line: Not to the realm of breathed sounds alone
Last Line: "bryan w. Procter (""barry cornwall"")."
Subject(s): Symphonies; Concerts


Not to the realm of breathèd sounds alone
Belong all instruments of melody:
No less than Music's self hath Poesy
Her instruments, perchance of finer tone.
She hath her sonnet-trumpet for her own,
Her viols and her pipes of balladry,
And silver flutes for love's sweet ministry
In many a tender lyric softly blown.
List, how in clearest harmony they sound, —
Cymbals and drums beating in battle-song,
Harp-strains of holy psalmody, up-stealing;
And, heard through all, with mighty voice profound
Outpoured, a wave of sound sustained and strong,
The solemn epic's thunderous organ-pealing!
But's hinged with different music. In that small space
Between the thought and its swift utterance —
Ere silence buds to sound — the angels, listening,
Hear infinite varieties of song!
And they who turn the lightning-rapid spheres
Have flown an evening's journey.
Bryan W. Procter ("Barry Cornwall").





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