A song of their own they were singing With Nature's response antiphon; Deep canyons, high rocks gave the echo, But, list you, that wild song is done. The chords of the Mighty Musician Were heard in each far-calling strain; Fight, chase, and the feast's lulling chanting All sobbed in its subtle refrain. It flooded the billowing prairies, Pervaded the camp and the trail; It sang out the forest child's impulse In croon, and in war cry, and wail. It blent with the peace of the campfire; It shrilled for each victory won; It lilted and pulsed with their love-notes— Alas, that their wild song is done. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF DUST: 1 by CONRAD AIKEN THE GENERAL PUBLIC by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET MOUNTAIN VALLEY by MALCOLM COWLEY TO THE MARTYRED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 2. LOS CIGARILLOS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE WHITE LIGHTS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |