The Poetry of Real Life A New Edition, Much Enlarged and Improved. By Henry Ellison |
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ON HEARING SOME SINGING BY NIGHT. |
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 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
ON HEARING SOME SINGING BY NIGHT.
Whence comes that music, with its dying fall,Which steals upon the dark, and so doth take
The Air, that it hangs tranced on its sweet wake?
And then from death to life doth straight recall
Itself, with resurrection musical
Beyond its death: as though 't would overtake
That dying close, ere, melting like a flake
Of snow, its súrcease caused an interval!
The mute air trembles with its ravishment,
Which hangs upon the darkness, like the scent
Of flowers from an arbour-roof down-weighed:
While Rapture, fearing to give himself vent,
Pores, like a lover, on the dark, afraid
To speak, lest one dear sound unheard should fade!
| The Poetry of Real Life | |