I know a shining meadow stream
That winds beneath an Eastern hill,
And all year long in sun or gloom
Its murmuring voice is never still.
The summer dies more gently there,
The April flowers are earlier,—
The first warm rain-wind from the Sound
Sets all their eager hearts astir.
And there when lengthening twilights fall
As softly as a wild bird's wing,
Across the valley in the dusk
I hear the silver flute of spring.
I am busy working to bring Bliss Carman's "The Flute of Spring" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Bliss Carman's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "The Flute of Spring" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.