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Best Famous Reverberant Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Reverberant poems. This is a select list of the best famous Reverberant poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Reverberant poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of reverberant poems.

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Written by Emma Lazarus | Create an image from this poem

Symphonic Studies (After Schumann)

 Prelude 

Blue storm-clouds in hot heavens of mid-July 
Hung heavy, brooding over land and sea: 
Our hearts, a-tremble, throbbed in harmony 
With the wild, restless tone of air and sky. 
Shall we not call im Prospero who held 
In his enchanted hands the fateful key 
Of that tempestuous hour's mystery, 
And with controlling wand our spirits spelled, 
With him to wander by a sun-bright shore, 
To hear fine, fairy voices, and to fly 
With disembodied Ariel once more 
Above earth's wrack and ruin? Far and nigh 
The laughter of the thunder echoed loud, 
And harmless lightnings leapt from cloud to cloud. 


I

Floating upon a swelling wave of sound, 
We seemed to overlook an endless sea: 
Poised 'twixt clear heavens and glittering surf were we. 
We drank the air in flight: we knew no bound 
To the audacious ventures of desire. 
Nigh us the sun was dropping, drowned in gold; 
Deep, deep below the burning billows rolled; 
And all the sea sang like a smitten lyre. 
Oh, the wild voices of those chanting waves! 
The human faces glimpsed beneath the tide! 
Familiar eyes gazed from profound sea-caves, 
And we, exalted, were as we had died. 
We knew the sea was Life, the harmonious cry 
The blended discords of humanity. 


II

Look deeper yet: mark 'midst the wave-blurred mass, 
In lines distinct, in colors clear defined, 
The typic groups and figures of mankind. 
Behold within the cool and liquid glass 
Bright child-folk sporting with smooth yellow shells, 
Astride of dolphins, leaping up to kiss 
Fair mother-faces. From the vast abyss 
How joyously their thought-free laughter wells! 
Some slumber in grim caverns unafraid, 
Lulled by the overwhelming water's sound, 
And some make mouths at dragons, undismayed. 
Oh dauntless innocence! The gulfs profound 
Reëcho strangely with their ringing glee, 
And with wise mermaids' plaintive melody. 


III

What do the sea-nymphs in that coral cave? 
With wondering eyes their supple forms they bend 
O'er something rarely beautiful. They lend 
Their lithe white arms, and through the golden wave 
They lift it tenderly. Oh blinding sight! 
A naked, radiant goddess, tranced in sleep, 
Full-limbed, voluptuous, 'neath the mantling sweep 
Of auburn locks that kiss her ankles white! 
Upward they bear her, chanting low and sweet: 
The clinging waters part before their way, 
Jewels of flame are dancing 'neath their feet. 
Up in the sunshine, on soft foam, they lay 
Their precious burden, and return forlorn. 
Oh, bliss! oh, anguish! Mortals, Love is born! 


IV

Hark! from unfathomable deeps a dirge 
Swells sobbing through the melancholy air: 
Where love has entered, Death is also there. 
The wail outrings the chafed, tumultuous surge; 
Ocean and earth, the illimitable skies, 
Prolong one note, a mourning for the dead, 
The cry of souls not to be comforted. 
What piercing music! Funeral visions rise, 
And send the hot tears raining down our cheek. 
We see the silent grave upon the hill 
With its lone lilac-bush. O heart, be still! 
She will not rise, she will not stir nor speak. 
Surely, the unreturning dead are blest. 
Ring on, sweet dirge, and knell us to our rest! 


V

Upon the silver beach the undines dance 
With interlinking arms and flying hair; 
Like polished marble gleam their limbs left bare; 
Upon their virgin rites pale moonbeams glance. 
Softer the music! for their foam-bright feet 
Print not the moist floor where they trip their round: 
Affrighted they will scatter at a sound, 
Leap in their cool sea-chambers, nibly fleet, 
And we shall doubt that we have ever seen, 
While our sane eyes behold stray wreaths of mist, 
Shot with faint colors by the moon-rays kissed, 
Floating snow-soft, snow-white, where these had been. 
Already, look! the wave-washed sands are bare, 
And mocking laughter ripples through the air. 


VI

Divided 'twixt the dream-world and the real, 
We heard the waxing passion of the song 
Soar as to scale the heavens on pinions strong. 
Amidst the long-reverberant thunder-peal, 
Against the rain-blurred square of light, the head 
Of the pale poet at the lyric keys 
Stood boldly cut, absorbed in reveries, 
While over it keen-bladed lightnings played. 
"Rage on, wild storm!" the music seemed to sing: 
"Not all the thunders of thy wrath can move 
The soul that's dedicate to worshipping 
Eternal Beauty, everlasting Love." 
No more! the song was ended, and behold, 
A rainbow trembling on a sky of gold! 


Epilogue

Forth in the sunlit, rain-bathed air we stepped, 
Sweet with the dripping grass and flowering vine, 
And saw through irised clouds the pale sun shine. 
Back o'er the hills the rain-mist slowly crept 
Like a transparent curtain's silvery sheen; 
And fronting us the painted bow was arched, 
Whereunder the majestic cloud-shapes marched: 
In the wet, yellow light the dazzling green 
Of lawn and bush and tree seemed stained with blue. 
Our hearts o'erflowed with peace. With smiles we spake 
Of partings in the past, of courage new, 
Of high achievement, of the dreams that make 
A wonder and a glory of our days, 
And all life's music but a hymn of praise.


Written by Edwin Arlington Robinson | Create an image from this poem

The Pity of the Leaves

 Vengeful across the cold November moors, 
Loud with ancestral shame there came the bleak 
Sad wind that shrieked, and answered with a shriek, 
Reverberant through lonely corridors. 
The old man heard it; and he heard, perforce,
Words out of lips that were no more to speak— 
Words of the past that shook the old man’s cheek 
Like dead, remembered footsteps on old floors. 

And then there were the leaves that plagued him so! 
The brown, thin leaves that on the stones outside
Skipped with a freezing whisper. Now and then 
They stopped, and stayed there—just to let him know 
How dead they were; but if the old man cried, 
They fluttered off like withered souls of men.
Written by Alan Seeger | Create an image from this poem

The Aisne

 We first saw fire on the tragic slopes 
Where the flood-tide of France's early gain, 
Big with wrecked promise and abandoned hopes, 
Broke in a surf of blood along the Aisne. 


The charge her heroes left us, we assumed, 
What, dying, they reconquered, we preserved, 
In the chill trenches, harried, shelled, entombed, 
Winter came down on us, but no man swerved. 


Winter came down on us. The low clouds, torn 
In the stark branches of the riven pines, 
Blurred the white rockets that from dusk till morn 
Traced the wide curve of the close-grappling lines. 


In rain, and fog that on the withered hill 
Froze before dawn, the lurking foe drew down; 
Or light snows fell that made forlorner still 
The ravaged country and the ruined town; 


Or the long clouds would end. Intensely fair, 
The winter constellations blazing forth -- 
Perseus, the Twins, Orion, the Great Bear -- 
Gleamed on our bayonets pointing to the north. 


And the lone sentinel would start and soar 
On wings of strong emotion as he knew 
That kinship with the stars that only War 
Is great enough to lift man's spirit to. 


And ever down the curving front, aglow 
With the pale rockets' intermittent light, 
He heard, like distant thunder, growl and grow 
The rumble of far battles in the night, -- 


Rumors, reverberant, indistinct, remote, 
Borne from red fields whose martial names have won 
The power to thrill like a far trumpet-note, -- 
Vic, Vailly, Soupir, Hurtelise, Craonne . . . 


Craonne, before thy cannon-swept plateau, 
Where like sere leaves lay strewn September's dead, 
I found for all dear things I forfeited 
A recompense I would not now forego. 


For that high fellowship was ours then 
With those who, championing another's good, 
More than dull Peace or its poor votaries could, 
Taught us the dignity of being men. 


There we drained deeper the deep cup of life, 
And on sublimer summits came to learn, 
After soft things, the terrible and stern, 
After sweet Love, the majesty of Strife; 


There where we faced under those frowning heights 
The blast that maims, the hurricane that kills; 
There where the watchlights on the winter hills 
Flickered like balefire through inclement nights; 


There where, firm links in the unyielding chain, 
Where fell the long-planned blow and fell in vain -- 
Hearts worthy of the honor and the trial, 
We helped to hold the lines along the Aisne.
Written by Conrad Aiken | Create an image from this poem

The House Of Dust: Part 03: 08: Coffins: Interlude

 Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower
Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour:
At the deep sudden stroke the pigeons fly . . .
The fine snow flutes the cracks between the flagstones.
We close our coats, and hurry, and search the sky.

We are like music, each voice of it pursuing
A golden separate dream, remote, persistent,
Climbing to fire, receding to hoarse despair.
What do you whisper, brother? What do you tell me? . . .
We pass each other, are lost, and do not care.

One mounts up to beauty, serenely singing,
Forgetful of the steps that cry behind him;
One drifts slowly down from a waking dream.
One, foreseeing, lingers forever unmoving . . .
Upward and downward, past him there, we stream.

One has death in his eyes: and walks more slowly.
Death, among jonquils, told him a freezing secret.
A cloud blows over his eyes, he ponders earth.
He sees in the world a forest of sunlit jonquils:
A slow black poison huddles beneath that mirth.

Death, from street to alley, from door to window,
Cries out his news,—of unplumbed worlds approaching,
Of a cloud of darkness soon to destroy the tower.
But why comes death,—he asks,—in a world so perfect?
Or why the minute's grey in the golden hour?

Music, a sudden glissando, sinister, troubled,
A drift of wind-torn petals, before him passes
Down jangled streets, and dies.
The bodies of old and young, of maimed and lovely,
Are slowly borne to earth, with a dirge of cries.

Down cobbled streets they come; down huddled stairways;
Through silent halls; through carven golden doorways;
From freezing rooms as bare as rock.
The curtains are closed across deserted windows.
Earth streams out of the shovel; the pebbles knock.

Mary, whose hands rejoiced to move in sunlight;
Silent Elaine; grave Anne, who sang so clearly;
Fugitive Helen, who loved and walked alone;
Miriam too soon dead, darkly remembered;
Childless Ruth, who sorrowed, but could not atone;

Jean, whose laughter flashed over depths of terror,
And Eloise, who desired to love but dared not;
Doris, who turned alone to the dark and cried,—
They are blown away like windflung chords of music,
They drift away; the sudden music has died.

And one, with death in his eyes, comes walking slowly
And sees the shadow of death in many faces,
And thinks the world is strange.
He desires immortal music and spring forever,
And beauty that knows no change.

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry