Lyrics of the heart With other poems. By Alaric A. Watts. With forty-one engravings on steel |
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THE ÆOLIAN HARP. |
 | Lyrics of the heart |  |
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THE ÆOLIAN HARP.
Methinks it should have been impossible
Not to love all things in a world like this,
Where even the breezes and the common air
Contain the power and spirit of harmony.
COLERIDGE.
Not to love all things in a world like this,
Where even the breezes and the common air
Contain the power and spirit of harmony.
COLERIDGE.
Harp of the winds! What music may compare
With thy wild gush of melody; or where
'Mid this world's discords, may we hope to meet,
Tones such as thine—so soothing and so sweet!
With thy wild gush of melody; or where
'Mid this world's discords, may we hope to meet,
Tones such as thine—so soothing and so sweet!
Harp of the winds! When summer's zephyr wings
Its airy flight across thy tremulous strings,
As if enamoured of its breath, they move
With soft, low murmurs;—like the voice of love
Ere passion deepens it, or sorrow mars
Its harmony with sighs. All worldly jars
Confess thy soothing power, when strains like these
From thy soft chords are borne upon the breeze!
Its airy flight across thy tremulous strings,
As if enamoured of its breath, they move
With soft, low murmurs;—like the voice of love
Ere passion deepens it, or sorrow mars
Its harmony with sighs. All worldly jars
Confess thy soothing power, when strains like these
From thy soft chords are borne upon the breeze!
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But when a more pervading force compels
Their sweetness into strength, and quickly swells
Each tenderer tone to fulness,—what a strange
And spirit-stirring sense that fitful change
Wakes in my heart. Visions of days long past,—
Hope, joy, pride, pain, and passion, with the blast
Come rushing on my soul;—till I believe
Some strong enchantment, purposed to deceive,
Hath fixed its spell upon me; and I grieve
I may not burst its bonds!—Anon the gale
Softly subsides, and whisperings low prevail
Of inarticulate melody, that seem
Not music but its shadow;—what a dream
Is to reality; or as the swell,—
Those who have felt alone have power to tell,—
Of the full heart where love was late a guest,
Ere it recovers from its sweet unrest.
The charm is o'er; each warring thought flits by,
Exorcised by that simplest minstrelsy;
Each turbulent feeling owns its sweet control,
And peace once more returns and settles on my soul!
Their sweetness into strength, and quickly swells
Each tenderer tone to fulness,—what a strange
And spirit-stirring sense that fitful change
Wakes in my heart. Visions of days long past,—
Hope, joy, pride, pain, and passion, with the blast
Come rushing on my soul;—till I believe
Some strong enchantment, purposed to deceive,
Hath fixed its spell upon me; and I grieve
I may not burst its bonds!—Anon the gale
Softly subsides, and whisperings low prevail
Of inarticulate melody, that seem
Not music but its shadow;—what a dream
Is to reality; or as the swell,—
Those who have felt alone have power to tell,—
Of the full heart where love was late a guest,
Ere it recovers from its sweet unrest.
The charm is o'er; each warring thought flits by,
Exorcised by that simplest minstrelsy;
Each turbulent feeling owns its sweet control,
And peace once more returns and settles on my soul!
| Lyrics of the heart | |