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    The Triumph Of Music: "A rope; a prayer; and an oak-tree near, And a score of hands to swing him clear. A grim, black thing for the setting sun, And the moon and the stars to gaze upon."
    The Triumph Of Music: "A rope; a prayer; and an oak-tree near, And a score of hands to swing him clear. A grim, black thing for the setting sun, And the moon and the stars to gaze upon."
    The Triumph Of Music: "A rope; a prayer; and an oak-tree near, And a score of hands to swing him clear. A grim, black thing for the setting sun, And the moon and the stars to gaze upon."
    Ebook116 pages1 hour

    The Triumph Of Music: "A rope; a prayer; and an oak-tree near, And a score of hands to swing him clear. A grim, black thing for the setting sun, And the moon and the stars to gaze upon."

    By Madison J Cawein

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Madison Julius Cawein (pronounced CAW-wine), known as “the Keats of Kentucky”, was born in Louisville, Kentucky, on 23rd March 1865. He often walked with his father, discovering the joys of his natural surroundings and unwittingly building the foundational love for nature upon which he based his poetry. He was prolific as a poet but struggled to find a large audience for most of what he published. However that volume of work should not detract you from its quality. For the last few years of his life he and his family were in a desperate financial position. He died on December 8th, 1914 of apoplexy. He was 49. Friends, fans and newspapers eulogized him as one of the greatest living American poets, and he was buried in Cave Hill Cemetery in Louisville, alongside his father. 1921 saw the publication of The Story of a Poet, and within its pages is a deeply affecting appraisal by Otto Arthur Rothert, who writes; Like Poe and Keats and many other true poets, Cawein did not receive a general recognition while he was still writing. He now awaits the wide and deserved recognition which time alone bestows. That the number of appreciators of Cawein’s works never decreased but slowly increased during his life-time points toward an enduring fame... Cawein’s greatest hope was that his poetry would live.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCopyright Group
    Release dateOct 29, 2013
    ISBN9781783945504
    The Triumph Of Music: "A rope; a prayer; and an oak-tree near, And a score of hands to swing him clear. A grim, black thing for the setting sun, And the moon and the stars to gaze upon."

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      Book preview

      The Triumph Of Music - Madison J Cawein

      THE TRIUMPH OF MUSIC BY MADISON J. CAWEIN.

      Madison Julius Cawein (pronounced CAW-wine), known as the Keats of Kentucky, was born in Louisville, Kentucky, on 23rd March 1865. He often walked with his father, discovering the joys of his natural surroundings and unwittingly building the foundational love for nature upon which he based his poetry. 

      He was prolific as a poet but struggled to find a large audience for most of what he published. However that volume of work should not detract you from its quality.   For the last few years of his life he and his family were in a desperate financial position. 

      He died on December 8th, 1914 of apoplexy. He was 49.  Friends, fans and newspapers eulogized him as one of the greatest living American poets, and he was buried in Cave Hill Cemetery in Louisville, alongside his father.

      1921 saw the publication of The Story of a Poet, and within its pages is a deeply affecting appraisal by Otto Arthur Rothert, who writes; Like Poe and Keats and many other true poets, Cawein did not receive a general recognition while he was still writing. He now awaits the wide and deserved recognition which time alone bestows. That the number of appreciators of Cawein’s works never decreased but slowly increased during his life-time points toward an enduring fame... Cawein’s greatest hope was that his poetry would live.

      Index Of Poems

      The Triumph of Music                                        

      What You Will                                              

      In the South                                               

      Pan,                                                        

      Pax Vobiscum                                               

      Mirabile Dictu                                             

      Questionings                                             

      Waiting                                                

      In Late Fall                                               

      Midwinter                                                 

      Longing                                                    

      In Middle Spring                                           

      Tyranny                                                    

      Visions                                                    

      The Old Byway                                         

      Diurnal                                                    

      The Wood Path                                         

      Deficiency                                                

      He Who Loves                                          

      The Monastery Croft                                       

      The Dryad                                                  

      The Sweet o' the Year                                   

      With the Seasons                                           

      Unattainable                                               

      Beyond                                                     

      Shadows                                                    

      Check and Counter-Check                                    

      Semper Idem                                                

      Two Lives                                                  

      Forevermore                                                

      A Blown Rose                                               

      To-morrow,                                                 

      Mnemosyne                                                 

      The Sirens                                                 

      The Vintager                                               

      A Stormy Sunset                                            

      On a Dial                                                  

      Unutterable,                                                

      Midsummer,                                                 

      A Fairy Cavalier                                           

      The Farmstead                                            

      Five Fancies:      I. The Gladiolas                      

      II. The Morning-Glories                

            III. The Tiger-Lily                     

           IV. Vengeance                         

           V. A Dead Lily                        

      My Suit                                                    

      The Family Burying-Ground                                  

      The Water-Maid                                             

      The Sea-King                                              

      Where and What?                                            

      The Spring                                                

      Lillita                                                   

      Artemis                                                  

      In November                                               

      A Character                                              

      A Mood                                                    

      A Thought                                                 

      Song                                                      

      Face to Face                                              

      The Changeling                                           

      St. John's Eve                                            

      Lalage                                                    

      Miriam                                                   

      The Wind                                              

      Music                                                   

      To ----                                                  

      Yule                                                     

      The Troubadour                                       

      Why?                                                       

      From Unbelief to Belief                              

      The King                           

      Madison Cawein – A Biography                      

      THE TRIUMPH OF MUSIC.

      I

      There lay in a vale 'twixt lone mountains

      A garden entangled with flowers,

      Where the whisper of echoing fountains

      Stirred softly the musk-breathing bowers.

      Where torrents cast down from rock-masses,

      From caverns of red-granite steeps,

      With thunders sonorous clove passes

      And maddened dark gulfs with rash leaps,

      With the dolorous foam of their leaps.

      II

      And, oh, when the sunrays came heaping

      The foam of those musical chasms,

      With a scintillant dust as of diamonds,

      It seemed that white spirits were sweeping

      Down, down thro' those voluble chasms,

      Wild weeping in resonant spasms.

      And the wave from the red-hearted granite

      In veins rolled tumbling around;

      Meandered thro' shade-haunted forests

      Where many rock barriers did span it

      To dash it in froth and in sound:

      Where the nights with their great moons could wan it,

      Or star its dusk stillness profound.

      III

      And here in the night would I wander

      On woodways where fragrances kissed,

      By shadows where murmurings kissed;

      And here would I tarry to ponder

      When the moon in blue vales made a mist;

      Dim in forests of rank, rocking cedars,

      Whose wildness made glad with their scent,

      Whose boughs in the tempests were bent

      Like the pennons and plumes of fierce leaders,

      In the battle all ragged and rent.

      IV

      And so when the moonshine was floating

      Far up on the mountain's bleak head,

      On the uttermost foam of the torrent,

      Would I string a wild harp while was gloating

      The moon on my blossomy bed.

      Or I lay where a fountain of blossoms

      Rained rustling from arches aloft,

      From the thick-scented arbors aloft,

      And I sang as the blossoms' white bosoms

      Pressed silk-smooth to mine and lay soft:

      I sang as their redolence stung me,

      And laughed on my blossomy couch,

      Till the fragrance and music had flung me

      Into shadows of sleep with their touch,

      The magic of exquisite touch....

      V

      One night as I wondered and wandered

      In this my rare Aidenn of flowers,

      I saw where I lingered and pondered

      A youth cast asleep mid the bowers:

      A youth on a mantle of satin,

      A poppy-red robe in the flowers.

      VI

      So I kissed his thin eyelids full tender,

      I kissed his high forehead and pale,

      I sighed as I kissed his black splendor

      Of curls that were kissed of the gale,

      That were moved of the balm-breathing gale.

      And he woke and cried out as if haunted:

      "Oh God! for one note of that song!

      For a sob of that languishing song!

      Whose tumult of sorrow enchanted,

      And swept my weak spirit along!"

      VII

      Than I sate me upon the red satin

      And plunged a long look in his eyes;

      I bowed on the weft of red satin

      And kindled his love with my sighs.

      With fingers of lightness set sobbing

      The chords of my harp in a song,

      Till I found that my heart was a-throbbing

      And sobbing to sing like a tongue,

      Was sobbing to mix with the song.

      VIII

      Then he cried, and his dark eyes

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