Daily Whitman

Angel Trumpet Statue

The Mystic Trumpeter

  Come nearer bodiless one, haply in thee resounds
  Some dead composer, haply thy pensive life
  Was fill'd with aspirations high, unform'd ideals,
  Waves, oceans musical, chaotically surging,
  That now ecstatic ghost, close to me bending, thy cornet echoing, pealing,
  Gives out to no one's ears but mine, but freely gives to mine,
  That I may thee translate.


Posted on 21/07/2015, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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