1
HARK! some wild trumpeter—some strange musician, | |
| Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night. | |
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| I hear thee, trumpeter—listening, alert, I catch thy notes, | |
| Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me, | |
| Now low, subdued—now in the distance lost. | 5 |
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2
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, | 10 |
| Gives out to no one’s ears but mine—but freely gives to mine, | |
| That I may thee translate. | |
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3
Blow, trumpeter, free and clear—I follow thee, | |
| While at thy liquid prelude, glad, serene, | |
| The fretting world, the streets, the noisy hours of day, withdraw; | 15 |
| A holy calm descends, like dew, upon me, | |
| I walk, in cool refreshing night, the walks of Paradise, | |
| I scent the grass, the moist air, and the roses; | |
| Thy song expands my numb’d, imbonded spirit—thou freest, launchest me, | |
| Floating and basking upon Heaven’s lake. | 20 |
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4
Blow again, trumpeter! and for my sensuous eyes, | |
| Bring the old pageants—show the feudal world. | |
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| What charm thy music works!—thou makest pass before me, | |
| Ladies and cavaliers long dead—barons are in their castle halls—the troubadours are singing; | |
| Arm’d knights go forth to redress wrongs—some in quest of the Holy Grail: | 25 |
| I see the tournament—I see the contestants, encased in heavy armor, seated on stately, champing horses; | |
| I hear the shouts—the sounds of blows and smiting steel: | |
| I see the Crusaders’ tumultuous armies—Hark! how the cymbals clang! | |
| Lo! where the monks walk in advance, bearing the cross on high! | |
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5
Blow again, trumpeter! and for thy theme, | 30 |
| Take now the enclosing theme of all—the solvent and the setting; | |
| Love, that is pulse of all—the sustenace and the pang; | |
| The heart of man and woman all for love; | |
| No other theme but love—knitting, enclosing, all-diffusing love. | |
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| O, how the immortal phantoms crowd around me! | 35 |
| I see the vast alembic ever working—I see and know the flames that heat the world; | |
| The glow, the blush, the beating hearts of lovers, | |
| So blissful happy some—and some so silent, dark, and nigh to death: | |
| Love, that is all the earth to lovers—Love, that mocks time and space; | |
| Love, that is day and night—Love, that is sun and moon and stars; | 40 |
| Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume; | |
| No other words, but words of love—no other thought but Love. | |
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6
Blow again, trumpeter—conjure war’s Wild alarums. | |
| Swift to thy spell, a shuddering hum like distant thunder rolls; | |
| Lo! where the arm’d men hasten—Lo! mid the clouds of dust, the glint of bayonets; | 45 |
| I see the grime-faced cannoniers—I mark the rosy flash amid the smoke—I hear the cracking of the guns: | |
| —Nor war alone—thy fearful music-song, wild player, brings every sight of fear, | |
| The deeds of ruthless brigands—rapine, murder—I hear the cries for help! | |
| I see ships foundering at sea—I behold on deck, and below deck, the terrible tableaux. | |
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7
O trumpeter! methinks I am myself the instrument thou playest! | 50 |
| Thou melt’st my heart, my brain—thou movest, drawest, changest them, at will: | |
| And now thy sullen notes send darkness through me; | |
| Thou takest away all cheering light—all hope: | |
| I see the enslaved, the overthrown, the hurt, the opprest of the whole earth; | |
| I feel the measureless shame and humiliation of my race—it becomes all mine; | 55 |
| Mine too the revenges of humanity—the wrongs of ages—baffled feuds and hatreds; | |
| Utter defeat upon me weighs—all lost! the foe victorious! | |
| (Yet ’mid the ruins Pride colossal stands, unshaken to the last; | |
| Endurance, resolution, to the last.) | |
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8
Now, trumpeter, for thy close, | 60 |
| Vouchsafe a higher strain than any yet; | |
| Sing to my soul—renew its languishing faith and hope; | |
| Rouse up my slow belief—give me some vision of the future; | |
| Give me, for once, its prophecy and joy. | |
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| O glad, exulting, culminating song! | 65 |
| A vigor more than earth’s is in thy notes! | |
| Marches of victory—man disenthrall’d—the conqueror at last! | |
| Hymns to the universal God, from universal Man—all joy! | |
| A reborn race appears—a perfect World, all joy! | |
| Women and Men, in wisdom, innocence and health—all joy! | 70 |
| Riotous, laughing bacchanals, fill’d with joy! | |
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| War, sorrow, suffering gone—The rank earth purged—nothing but joy left! | |
| The ocean fill’d with joy—the atmosphere all joy! | |
| Joy! Joy! in freedom, worship, love! Joy in the ecstacy of life! | |
| Enough to merely be! Enough to breathe! | 75 |
| Joy! Joy! all over Joy! | |
