the harmony of morning - elliott carter lyrics
the harmony of morning
and a thrush’s throat among the sleep deserted boughs
expiring mists that murmur all the day of a clear dusk, with music at the close;
night madrigal and round: there is no word melodious as those
rage of the viol whose deep and shady room is sounded to a tempest by the strings;
sweet keys depressed, swift rise upon a note, whence all the narrow soul of music hangs;
the reed, and h*rns agreeing: words in the wake of these are scrannel gongs
in them another music, half of sound and half of something taciturn between;
in them another ringing, ringing, not for еars, not loud;
but in the chambers of a brain are bеlls that clap an answer when the words move orderly
with truth among the train, when the words move, but in the chambers of a brain are bells
that clap an answer when the words move
when the words move orderly, with truth among the train
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