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On Hearing A Lady Play On The Musical Glasses.

By John Clare

Topics: classic

Beyond expression, delicately fine,     Beneath her slender fingers swept the sound     Of 'witching tones, melodious, divine;     Soothing and soft upon the sense they wound,     Join'd with the syrens' music, as it were,     As her sweet voice came mingling on the ear.     Ah, who but knows what woman's voice can do!     To every soul such melody is dear;     Angelic harmony, and beauty too!     Our very hearts melt in the sounds we hear:     The breaks--the pauses--check our pulse's beats.     Enraptur'd memory still each air retains,--     And, as the mind the syren's songs repeats,     Creates sensations sweeter than her strains.

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"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"

John Clare

About John Clare

John Clare (1793–1864) was an English poet known as the "peasant poet" for his humble origins. His nature poetry—including "I Am" and "Badger"—captures the English countryside with extraordinary precision and emotional honesty, and he is now recognized as one of the finest nature poets in the language.

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