Beyond expression, delicately fine,
Beneath her slender fingers swept the sound
Of 'witching tones, melodious, divine;
Soothing and soft upon the sense they wound,
Join'd with the syrens' music, as it were,
As her sweet voice came mingling on the ear.
Ah, who but knows what woman's voice can do!
To every soul such melody is dear;
Angelic harmony, and beauty too!
Our very hearts melt in the sounds we hear:
The breaks--the pauses--check our pulse's beats.
Enraptur'd memory still each air retains,--
And, as the mind the syren's songs repeats,
Creates sensations sweeter than her strains.
On Hearing A Lady Play On The Musical Glasses
John Clare
(1)
Poem topics: beauty, memory, music, woman, dear, soul, sweet, sense, hear, mind, harmony, divine, soft, expression, beneath, sound, melody, voice, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about On Hearing A Lady Play On The Musical Glasses poem by John Clare
Best Poems of John Clare