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Poem
October 28, 1878
Orleans County Monitor
Barton, Orleans County, Vermont
What is this article about?
An elderly man, blind and aged like his broken harp, imagines playing a silent melody from his past, evoking memories of love and battle. The poem reflects on the beauty of imagined music in old age, sweeter than any real sound.
Clipping
OCR Quality
98%
Excellent
Full Text
THE SILENT MELODY
BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES,
"Bring me my broken harp," he said;
"We both are wrecks but as ye will—
Though all its ringing tones have fled.
Their echoes linger round it still;
It had some golden strings, I know,
Yet that was long—how long!—ago.
"I cannot see its tarnished gold,
I cannot hear its vanished tone,
Scarce can my trembling fingers hold
The pillared frame so long their own;
We both are wrecks—a while ago
It had some silver strings, I know.
"But on them Time too long has played
The solemn strain that knows no change,
And where of my old fingers strayed
The chords they find are new and strange—
Yes! iron strings—I know—I know—
We both are wrecks of long ago.
"We both are wrecks—a shattered pair—
Strange to ourselves in Time's disguise—
What say to the love sick air
That brought tears from Marian's eyes?
Ay! trust me under breasts of snow
Hearts could be melted long ago!
"Or will ye hear the storm-song's crash
That from his dreams the soldier woke
And bade him face the lightning flash
When battle's cloud in thunder broke?
Wrecks—naught but wrecks!—the time was when
We two were worth a thousand men!"
And so the broken harp they bring
With pitying smile that none could blame;
Alas! there's not a single string
Of all that filled the tarnished frame!
But see! like children overjoyed
His fingers rambling through the void!
"I clasp thee! Ay—my ancient lyre—
Nay, guide my wandering fingers—There!
They love to dally with the wire
As Isaac played with Esau's hair—
Hush! ye shall hear the famous tune
That Marian The Breath of June !'"
And so they softly gather round;
Rapt in his tuneful trance he seems;
His fingers move; but not a sound!
A silence like the song of dreams,
"There! ye have heard the air." he cries,
"That brought the tears from Marian's eyes!"
Ah, smile not at his fond conceit,
Nor deem his fancy wrought in vain;
To him the unreal sounds are sweet—
No discord mars the silent strain
Scored on life's latest starlit page—
The voiceless melody of age.
Sweet are the lips of all that sing
When nature's music breathes unsought,
But never yet could voice or string
So truly shape our tenderest thought
As when by life's decaying fire
Our fingers sweep the stringless lyre!
BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES,
"Bring me my broken harp," he said;
"We both are wrecks but as ye will—
Though all its ringing tones have fled.
Their echoes linger round it still;
It had some golden strings, I know,
Yet that was long—how long!—ago.
"I cannot see its tarnished gold,
I cannot hear its vanished tone,
Scarce can my trembling fingers hold
The pillared frame so long their own;
We both are wrecks—a while ago
It had some silver strings, I know.
"But on them Time too long has played
The solemn strain that knows no change,
And where of my old fingers strayed
The chords they find are new and strange—
Yes! iron strings—I know—I know—
We both are wrecks of long ago.
"We both are wrecks—a shattered pair—
Strange to ourselves in Time's disguise—
What say to the love sick air
That brought tears from Marian's eyes?
Ay! trust me under breasts of snow
Hearts could be melted long ago!
"Or will ye hear the storm-song's crash
That from his dreams the soldier woke
And bade him face the lightning flash
When battle's cloud in thunder broke?
Wrecks—naught but wrecks!—the time was when
We two were worth a thousand men!"
And so the broken harp they bring
With pitying smile that none could blame;
Alas! there's not a single string
Of all that filled the tarnished frame!
But see! like children overjoyed
His fingers rambling through the void!
"I clasp thee! Ay—my ancient lyre—
Nay, guide my wandering fingers—There!
They love to dally with the wire
As Isaac played with Esau's hair—
Hush! ye shall hear the famous tune
That Marian The Breath of June !'"
And so they softly gather round;
Rapt in his tuneful trance he seems;
His fingers move; but not a sound!
A silence like the song of dreams,
"There! ye have heard the air." he cries,
"That brought the tears from Marian's eyes!"
Ah, smile not at his fond conceit,
Nor deem his fancy wrought in vain;
To him the unreal sounds are sweet—
No discord mars the silent strain
Scored on life's latest starlit page—
The voiceless melody of age.
Sweet are the lips of all that sing
When nature's music breathes unsought,
But never yet could voice or string
So truly shape our tenderest thought
As when by life's decaying fire
Our fingers sweep the stringless lyre!
What sub-type of article is it?
Elegy
What themes does it cover?
Death Mourning
What keywords are associated?
Silent Melody
Broken Harp
Aging
Memory
Oliver Wendell Holmes
Marian
Soldier Song
What entities or persons were involved?
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
Poem Details
Title
The Silent Melody
Author
By Oliver Wendell Holmes
Form / Style
Rhymed Stanzas
Key Lines
"We Both Are Wrecks—A Shattered Pair—
Strange To Ourselves In Time's Disguise—"
"I Clasp Thee! Ay—My Ancient Lyre—
Nay, Guide My Wandering Fingers—There!"
A Silence Like The Song Of Dreams,
The Voiceless Melody Of Age.
Our Fingers Sweep The Stringless Lyre!