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George Meredith - Twilight Music
Work rating: Low

Know you the low pervading breeze 
That softly sings 
In the trembling leaves of twilight trees, 
As if the wind were dreaming on its wings? 
And have you marked their still degrees 
Of ebbing melody, like the strings 
Of a silver harp swept by a spirit`s hand 
In some strange glimmering land, 
`Mid gushing springs, 
And glistenings 
Of waters and of planets, wild and grand! 
And have you marked in that still time 
The chariots of those shining cars 
Brighten upon the hushing dark, 
And bent to hark 
That Voice, amid the poplar and the lime, 
Pause in the dilating lustre 
Of the spheral cluster; 
Pause but to renew its sweetness, deep 
As dreams of heaven to souls that sleep! 
And felt, despite earth`s jarring wars, 
When day is done 
And dead the sun, 
Still a voice divine can sing, 
Still is there sympathy can bring 
A whisper from the stars! 
Ah, with this sentience quickly will you know 
How like a tree I tremble to the tones 
Of your sweet voice! 
How keenly I rejoice 
When in me with sweet motions slow 
The spiritual music ebbs and moans - 
Lives in the lustre of those heavenly eyes, 
Dies in the light of its own paradise, - 
Dies, and relives eternal from its death, 
Immortal melodies in each deep breath; 
Sweeps thro` my being, bearing up to thee 
Myself, the weight of its eternity; 
Till, nerved to life from its ordeal fire, 
It marries music with the human lyre, 
Blending divine delight with loveliest desire.
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