The Mystic Trumpeter1Hark, some wild trumpeter, some strange musician,Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night.I hear thee trumpeter, listening alert I catch thy notes,Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me,Now low, subdued, now in the distance lost.2Come nearer bodiless one, haply in thee resoundsSome dead composer, haply thy pensive lifeWas fill’d with aspirations high, unform’d ideals,Waves, oceans musical, chaotically surging,That now ecstatic ghost, close to me bending, thy cornet echoing, pealing,Gives out to no one’s ears but mine, but freely gives to mine,That I may thee translate.3Blow trumpeter free and clear, I follow thee,While at thy liquid prelude, glad, serene,The fretting world, the streets, the noisy hours of day withdraw,A holy calm descends like dew upon me,I walk in cool refreshing night the walks of Paradise,I scent the grass, the moist air and the roses;Thy song expands my numb’d imbonded spirit, thou freest, launchest me,Floating and basking upon heaven’s lake.4Blow again trumpeter! and for my sensuous eyes,Bring the old pageants, show the feudal world.What charm thy music works! thou makest pass before me,Ladies and cavaliers long dead, barons are in their castle halls,the troubadours are singing,Arm’d knights go forth to redress wrongs, some in quest of the holy Graal;I see the tournament, I see the contestants incased in heavy armorseated on stately champing horses,I hear the shouts, the sounds of blows and smiting steel;I see the Crusaders’ tumultuous armies—hark, how the cymbals clang,Lo, where the monks walk in advance, bearing the cross on high.5Blow again trumpeter! and for thy theme,Take now the enclosing theme of all, the solvent and the setting,Love, that is pulse of all, the sustenance and the pang,The heart of man and woman all for love,No other theme but love—knitting, enclosing, all-diffusing love.O how the immortal phantoms crowd around me!I see the vast alembic ever working, I see and know the flames thatheat the world,The glow, the blush, the beating hearts of lovers,So blissful happy some, and some so silent, dark, and nigh to death;Love, that is all the earth to lovers—love, that mocks time and space,Love, that is day and night—love, that is sun and moon and stars,Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume,No other words but words of love, no other thought but love.6Blow again trumpeter—conjure war’s alarums.Swift to thy spell a shuddering hum like distant thunder rolls,Lo, where the arm’d men hasten—lo, mid the clouds of dust the glintof bayonets,I see the grime-faced cannoneers, I mark the rosy flash amid thesmoke, I hear the cracking of the guns;Nor war alone—thy fearful music-song, wild player, brings everysight of fear,The deeds of ruthless brigands, rapine, murder—I hear the cries for help!I see ships foundering at sea, I behold on deck and below deck theterrible tableaus.7O trumpeter, methinks I am myself the instrument thou playest,Thou melt’st my heart, my brain—thou movest, drawest, changestthem at will;And now thy sullen notes send darkness through me,Thou takest away all cheering light, all hope,I see the enslaved, the overthrown, the hurt, the opprest of thewhole earth,I feel the measureless shame and humiliation of my race, it becomesall mine,Mine too the revenges of humanity, the wrongs of ages, baffled feudsand hatreds,Utter defeat upon me weighs—all lost—the foe victorious,(Yet ’mid the ruins Pride colossal stands unshaken to the last,Endurance, resolution to the last.)8Now trumpeter for thy close,Vouchsafe a higher strain than any yet,Sing to my soul, renew its languishing faith and hope,Rouse up my slow belief, give me some vision of the future,Give me for once its prophecy and joy.O glad, exulting, culminating song!A vigor more than earth’s is in thy notes,Marches of victory—man disenthral’d—the conqueror at last,Hymns to the universal God from universal man—all joy!A reborn race appears—a perfect world, all joy!Women and men in wisdom innocence and health—all joy!Riotous laughing bacchanals fill’d with joy!War, sorrow, suffering gone—the rank earth purged—nothing but joy left!The ocean fill’d with joy—the atmosphere all joy!Joy! joy! in freedom, worship, love! joy in the ecstasy of life!Enough to merely be! enough to breathe!Joy! joy! all over joy!
1Hark, some wild trumpeter, some strange musician,Hovering unseen in air, vibrates capricious tunes to-night.I hear thee trumpeter, listening alert I catch thy notes,Now pouring, whirling like a tempest round me,Now low, subdued, now in the distance lost.2Come nearer bodiless one, haply in thee resoundsSome dead composer, haply thy pensive lifeWas fill’d with aspirations high, unform’d ideals,Waves, oceans musical, chaotically surging,That now ecstatic ghost, close to me bending, thy cornet echoing, pealing,Gives out to no one’s ears but mine, but freely gives to mine,That I may thee translate.3Blow trumpeter free and clear, I follow thee,While at thy liquid prelude, glad, serene,The fretting world, the streets, the noisy hours of day withdraw,A holy calm descends like dew upon me,I walk in cool refreshing night the walks of Paradise,I scent the grass, the moist air and the roses;Thy song expands my numb’d imbonded spirit, thou freest, launchest me,Floating and basking upon heaven’s lake.4Blow again trumpeter! and for my sensuous eyes,Bring the old pageants, show the feudal world.What charm thy music works! thou makest pass before me,Ladies and cavaliers long dead, barons are in their castle halls,the troubadours are singing,Arm’d knights go forth to redress wrongs, some in quest of the holy Graal;I see the tournament, I see the contestants incased in heavy armorseated on stately champing horses,I hear the shouts, the sounds of blows and smiting steel;I see the Crusaders’ tumultuous armies—hark, how the cymbals clang,Lo, where the monks walk in advance, bearing the cross on high.5Blow again trumpeter! and for thy theme,Take now the enclosing theme of all, the solvent and the setting,Love, that is pulse of all, the sustenance and the pang,The heart of man and woman all for love,No other theme but love—knitting, enclosing, all-diffusing love.O how the immortal phantoms crowd around me!I see the vast alembic ever working, I see and know the flames thatheat the world,The glow, the blush, the beating hearts of lovers,So blissful happy some, and some so silent, dark, and nigh to death;Love, that is all the earth to lovers—love, that mocks time and space,Love, that is day and night—love, that is sun and moon and stars,Love, that is crimson, sumptuous, sick with perfume,No other words but words of love, no other thought but love.6Blow again trumpeter—conjure war’s alarums.Swift to thy spell a shuddering hum like distant thunder rolls,Lo, where the arm’d men hasten—lo, mid the clouds of dust the glintof bayonets,I see the grime-faced cannoneers, I mark the rosy flash amid thesmoke, I hear the cracking of the guns;Nor war alone—thy fearful music-song, wild player, brings everysight of fear,The deeds of ruthless brigands, rapine, murder—I hear the cries for help!I see ships foundering at sea, I behold on deck and below deck theterrible tableaus.7O trumpeter, methinks I am myself the instrument thou playest,Thou melt’st my heart, my brain—thou movest, drawest, changestthem at will;And now thy sullen notes send darkness through me,Thou takest away all cheering light, all hope,I see the enslaved, the overthrown, the hurt, the opprest of thewhole earth,I feel the measureless shame and humiliation of my race, it becomesall mine,Mine too the revenges of humanity, the wrongs of ages, baffled feudsand hatreds,Utter defeat upon me weighs—all lost—the foe victorious,(Yet ’mid the ruins Pride colossal stands unshaken to the last,Endurance, resolution to the last.)
8Now trumpeter for thy close,Vouchsafe a higher strain than any yet,Sing to my soul, renew its languishing faith and hope,Rouse up my slow belief, give me some vision of the future,Give me for once its prophecy and joy.O glad, exulting, culminating song!A vigor more than earth’s is in thy notes,Marches of victory—man disenthral’d—the conqueror at last,Hymns to the universal God from universal man—all joy!A reborn race appears—a perfect world, all joy!Women and men in wisdom innocence and health—all joy!Riotous laughing bacchanals fill’d with joy!War, sorrow, suffering gone—the rank earth purged—nothing but joy left!The ocean fill’d with joy—the atmosphere all joy!Joy! joy! in freedom, worship, love! joy in the ecstasy of life!Enough to merely be! enough to breathe!Joy! joy! all over joy!