Music Poetry



That Music Always Round Me (1891)

That music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning, yet long

untaught I did not hear,

But now the chorus I hear and am elated,

A tenor, strong, ascending with power and health, with glad notes

of daybreak I hear,

A soprano at intervals sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense


A transparent base shuddering lusciously under and through the


The triumphant tutti, the funeral wailings with sweet flutes and

violins, all of these I fill myself with,

I hear not the volumes of sound merely, I am moved by the

exquisite meanings,

I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving,

contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in


I do not think the performers know themselves—but now I think I

begin to know them.


Walter Whitman (1819-1892) was an American poet, essayist and journalist. “America’s most significant nineteenth century poet”.  His main themes: love, nature, friendship, democracy, soul and death.



Hymn to the Night (1839)

I heard the trailing garments of the Night

Sweep through her marble halls!

I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light

From the celestial walls!

I felt her presence, by its spell of might,

Stoop o’er me from above;

The calm, majestic presence of the Night,

As of the one I love.

I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight,

The manifold, soft chimes,

That fill the haunted chambers of the Night,

Like some old poet’s rhymes.

From the cool cisterns of the midnight air

My spirit drank repose;

The fountain of perpetual peace flows there,—

From those deep cisterns flows.

O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear

What man has borne before!

Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care

And they complain no more.

Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer!

Descend with broad-winged flight,

The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair,

The best-beloved Night!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, (1807 – 1882) an American poet and educator.


Limitations (1910)

The subtlest strain a great musician weaves,

Cannot attain in rhythmic harmony

To music in his soul. May it not be

Celestial lyres send hints to him? He grieves

That half the sweetness of the song, he leaves

Unheard in the transition. Thus do we

Yearn to translate the wondrous majesty

Of some rare mood, when the rapt soul receives

A vision exquisite. Yet who can match

The sunset’s iridescent hues? Who sing

The skylark’s ecstasy so seraph-fine?

We struggle vainly, still we fain would catch

Such rifts amid life’s shadows, for they bring

Glimpses ineffable of things divine.

Henrietta Cordelia Ray (1849 – 1916), African-American poet and teacher.

Music Links 

Dave Brubeck Quartet – Unsquare Dance –

Haim – Honey and I –





3 thoughts on “Music Poetry

    1. Dear Poetry lover,

      We are delighted to know that our website is being more than just an entertainment channel. Please feel free to keep using our content to help your community, and we also invite you all to contribute to our project by sharing ideas, images, videos or any other elements that you might find interesting about Poetry and Culture.


      Warm regards,

      Catarina Lopes & Anna Rozek



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