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Poetry is the music of thought
conveyed to us in the music of
language.
CHATFIELD
Mourn not the Muse of Israel's children 0 Sons, that nigh her Wall of Wailing moan - Deem not her tuneful day forever fled, Her Cantors gone - tbeir vibrant grandeur dead, For Judah lives while Levi's Songs are sung. Or love or grief from lyre of David wrung - While captive chants o'er Babylon Waters' side- As timbrels over Egypt's yawning Tide, Plaintive in cadence of their long ago, Enchain the soul with psalteries of woe! Sweet through the Age's air she breathes again The rhythmic charm by her bequeathed to men; And still her harp its theme harmonious brings, Though ruthless hands essay to rend the strings; Rossini, Mendelssohn, and Meyerbeer - With such her Genius fills the Century's ear; Her dulcet melody enchanting floats On Pasta's wave - on Grisi's liquid notes - On voiceful grace of ranks that resonant throng To blend her chords of psalmody and song - From joys that Miriam's jubilation rang To sorrows Jephtha's daughter dolorous sang. O Israel's marvelled Muse, what deathless power Invests thy pensive life with vital dower - Æolian harp hung o'er one race alone, Whence is the breeze that wafts thy stayless tone? 'Tis that which bore the Sire at Heaven's command Across Euphrates to thy hallowed Land, His Spirit bids thee sad or buoyant be - His Canticles of Zion sigh and sing through thee! |
AVE MARIA | CONTENTS | THE HARP OF MOORE |
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