The Harp of the Ancients

Alice Corbin

1881 to 1949

Poem Image

The world is an organ outside tonight,
When the tall trees bend, and the wind's awake
Playing its master harmonies
On the harp that must quaver or break!

The world is an organ, and all night long
I lie and listen to the song;
For I can not sleep, for I fear I would dream
And wake to the sound of the organ's scream.

O Powers that live in the raging wind,
Lie down in peace, for the lion and lamb
No longer quarrel, and God indeed
Lives in the oak and the sapling and reed;

Will ye not cease from your warring now,
And let peace come to the bending bough,
To the wave that beats on the quiet shore—
Bring peace to her bosom forevermore?