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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
There was a something in your song, men say No later singer voices: some strange power Like to the essence in a rare June day, Or like the subtle perfume of a flower. Awed and inspired, your listeners turned away, Baptized in your sweet musicТs holy shower. For through that music shone the glorious dower Of your great soul: here all the secret lay. Not for the honours of this earth you sang-- Not for its gold or glory, not for art, Not for the fortunes at your fair feet hurled. The love of God through all your measures rang, And each pure note bespoke a noble heart. When worth weds genius, lo! they rule the world.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
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