Deaf American Poetry: An Anthology

Thoughts on Music

Mary Toles Peet 44 Thoughts on Music They tell me oft of the witching song That thrills the list’ner’s heart, And of the soft melody Breathed forth with music’s art: They tell me, too, of the joyous strain, Which bursts with magic power, From the heart where love and hope have laid Their brightly woven dower. And then they tell of the sounds which come Afar from the sea’s deep caves, Of the voice of the wind which sighs among Old Ocean’s towering waves; And the wild, deep music, which comes up From the breakers’ dashing roar And the storm cloud’s voice, when, as in wrath, His torrents madly pour. And they tell me, too, of the wild bird’s song Afar in the green woods dim, And of the lark’s glad trill, which seems Of praise a heartfelt hymn, And that the feathered sprites at which I sit and gaze each day, Send forth to the still heavens, as well, Their soft, melodious lay. And then they tell of the sounds which come From the battlefield afar, Of the thrilling peal of the “trump and drum,” And the martial strains of war; Then turn from these to tell sweet tales, Of the evening zephyr’s notes, Mary Toles Peet 45 And all the varied melody Which round them ever floats. Then I gaze into their faces, and see The smile no longer there, And they grieve that never unto me May float, on the stilly air, One sound of this glorious minstrelsy, One echo of the voice Which swells through Nature’s thousand tones, Making all earth rejoice. Yet deem not, since I am debarred From all the melodies of sound, Earth has no music for my heart, Nor that my soul is bound By that dull seal which has been placed Upon my outer sense, For the music of my inward ear Brings joy far more intense. ...