Practising The Anthem

A summer wind blows through the open porch,

And, ‘neath the rustling eaves,

A summer light of moonrise, calm and pale,

Shines through a vale of leaves.

The soft gusts bring a scent of summer flowers,

Fresh with the falling dew,

And round the doorway, glimmering white as snow,

The tender petals strew.

Clear through the silence, from a reedy pool

The curlew’s whistle thrills;

A lonely mopoke sorrowfully cries

From the far-folding hills.

O lovely night, and yet so sad and strange!

My fingers touch the key;

And down the empty church my Christmas song

Goes ringing, glad and free.

Each sweet note knocks at dreaming memory’s door,

And memory wakes in pain;

The spectral faces she had turn’d away

Come crowding in again.

The air seems full of music all around-

I know not what I hear,

The multitudinous echoes of the past,

Or these few voices near.

Ah me! the dim aisle vaguely widens out,

I see me stand therein;

A glory of grey sculpture takes the light

A winter morn brings in.

No more I smell the fragrant jessamine flowers

That flake a moonlit floor;

The rustling night-breeze and the open porch

I hear and see no more.

Great solemn windows, down a long, long nave

Their shadow’d rainbows fling;

Dark Purbeck shafts, with hoary capitals,

In carven archways spring.

And overhead the throbbing organ waves

Roll in one mighty sea,

Bearing the song the herald angels sang

Of Christ’s nativity.

Dear hands touch mine beneath the open book,

Sweet eyes look in my face,-

They smile, they melt in darkness; I am snatch’d

From my familiar place.

The summer night-wind blows upon my tears;

Its flowery scent is pain.

O cold, white day! O noble minster-when

May I come back again!

To hear the angels’ anthem shake the air,

Where never discord jars,-

The Christmas carols in the windy street,

Under the frosty stars;

The dream-like falling from the still, grey skies,

With falling flakes of snow,

Of mellow chimes from old cathedral bells,

Solemn and sweet and slow.

To hear loved footsteps beating time with mine

Along the churchyard path,-

To see that ring of faces once again

Drawn round the blazing hearth.

When may I come? O Lord, when may I go?

Nay, I must wait Thy will.

Give patience, Lord, and in Thine own best way

My hopes and prayers fulfil.

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External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 56. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “The Odes of Anacreon”. Ode 66. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 103. The Mountain Spite. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 99. ’Twas One of Those Dreams. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 91. Oh, Ye Dead!. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 85. Oh For the Swords of Former Time. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 58. Farewell! – But Whenever You Welcome the Hour. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 44. She Is Far From the Land. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 26. Erin, Oh Erin. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Mark Akenside. The Pleasures of Imagination. Марк Эйкенсайд. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 22. Let Erin Remember the Days of Old. Томас Мур. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Richard Hovey. The Old Pine. Ричард Хави. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Richard Hovey. John Keats. Ричард Хави. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Haunted. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Going for the Cows. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Garden and Gardener. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Forevermore. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Finale. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн. by Poetry In English
• English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Evasion. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн. by Poetry In English
• Copywriting Agency Foundation For Prosperous Business by Poetry In English

More external links (open in a new tab):

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Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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