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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
455
TRANSMUTATION
To me all beauty that I see
Is melody made visible:
An earth-translated state, may be,
Of music heard in Heaven or Hell.
Is melody made visible:
An earth-translated state, may be,
Of music heard in Heaven or Hell.
Out of some love-impassioned strain
Of saints, the rose evolved its bloom;
And, dreaming of it here again,
Perhaps relives it as perfume.
Of saints, the rose evolved its bloom;
And, dreaming of it here again,
Perhaps relives it as perfume.
Out of some chant, that demons sing
Of hate and pain, the sunset grew;
And, haply, still remembering,
Relives it here as some wild hue.
Of hate and pain, the sunset grew;
And, haply, still remembering,
Relives it here as some wild hue.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |