There was the lyre of earth beheld,
Then heard by me: it holds me linked;
Across the years to dead-ebb shores
I stand on, my blood thrill restores.
But would I conjure into me
Those issue notes, I must review
What serious breath the woodland drew;
The low throb of expectancy;
And how the white mother muteness
pressed on leaf and herb...

Note: the complete poem begins "With splendor of a silvery day"

Text Authorship:

• by George Meredith (1828 - 1909), appears in The Empty Purse, last stanza of "Night of Frost in May", , first published 1892 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

• by Charles Edward Ives (1874 - 1954), "From "Night of frost in May"", 1899, published 1921. [voice and piano] [
   text verified 1 time
  ]

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 10
Word count: 62