by George Meredith (1828 - 1909)

Song in the songless
Language: English 
They have no song, the sedges dry,
  And still they sing.
It is within my breast they sing,
  As I pass by.
Within my breast they touch a string,
  They wake a sigh.
There is but [sound]1 of sedges dry;
  In me they sing.

View original text (without footnotes)
1 Cowell: "the sound"

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


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2009-01-13
Line count: 8
Word count: 44