On a Golden Finch

The song of the finch...

Oh, faery finch, whose golden form does climb

    Athwart the starry bays of poesies, sweet,

I hear your voice, and drown in slumber’s clime,

    As I sit, pond’ring in my woolen seat.

My quill spills no sweet word or sweeter song,

    For my heart such cloyed passions cannot game,

And doubly more lies speechless my sore tongue,

    And triply even more, my soul’s the same.

 

As hours pass, upon these pages, bare

    I stare as if no passion stirs to fly.

To mount into Eutrepe’s mystic lair

    I couldn’t, ‘till your tender lullaby

Had touched my ear, and from my breast awoke

    Some passioned fire, hearing such sweet voice.

Of Heaven’s bells and Heaven’s harps. Out spoke

    Your lilting charms which, magically employs

 

All of the Muse’s finest strengths and spells:

    Eutrepe’s mystic hymn, Erato’s grace

And Calliope’s trance which softly swells

    In finest verse, and in such verse does trace

Vast time. Oh, finch, were it not for your song

    Nor for you visiting me, worn with age

No words would spill from out my stricken tongue

    And writ wouldn’t be to you, my own homáge.

Author's Note

All images belong to their respective owners.

Reviews

[Anand Sehgal]

My quill spills no sweet word or sweeter song,

For my heart such cloyed passions cannot game,

And doubly more lies speechless my sore tongue,

And triply even more, my soul’s the same.

super awesome lines :)
loved the write and its form :)
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[Wuji]

I really enjoyed this poem Gleb, it's beautiful, skillful and fine. One of the better ones I've read of you - the rhyming scheme suits you.

[Augustus]

This definitely transported me back to my schooldays, when I would read from Palgrave's Golden Treasury to my grandfather. I would not have been surprised to find this poem in that book, rubbing shoulders with the likes of Keats' masterful Ode to a Nightingale.... This poem of yours is a superbly crafted Ode that fits perfectly into the Romantic period. The diction, the rhymes, the enjambments, mythical references... all are trademarks of the early 1800s. I've written odes myself and I know how difficult it can be to maintain the integrity of form as well as content as well as the mutual consistency between them and it is fair to say you have done a splendid job there.

This brand of poetry is extremely rare these days, and some people are only too eager to label it obsolete. But for me, this poem illustrates the power of the fusion of form and content into an elevated work of art that makes the great poems of yore timeless classics. Thank you for this ennobling and enriching journey back in time!

[Gleb Zavlanov]

Wow! Thank you very much. I'm very honored. Welcome back. :)

[Augustus]

My pleasure, Gleb!

[Priyankaabhilaashi]

Good write!!! Keep posting!!

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Gleb... On this chilly silver day
in January... reading your poem of
a song of a sunshine fairy finch whose
sweet song has touched my heart with
longing for warmer days of communion
with nature and the scent of flowers.
I shall cherish your poem and frame it
in my heart... truly... Pat

[s y e]

You bring nature to life in this poem. I loved it.

[Rita L. Sev]

Gleb, this is really lovely. You bring nature to life in this piece, and the finch sings sweetly with your words...

[Jack...]

Gleb, this is wonderful. I love the language'd wording and the melodic feel of this poem. As if this finch is singing it to me. So very beautiful my friend.

[Gurglesnarch van Caasi]

Great poetry yet again, Mister Gleb!
The nature of this poem - its air, or spirit - was incredibly suggestive of fantasy and dreaming! Well done how you created not only the setting of the poem, but also the SPIRIT of the poem - how it makes one feel.
Keep up the fine work.
- M. Gurglesnarch

[Pryde Foltz]

Oh, finch, were it not for your song
Nor for you visiting me, worn with age
No words would spill from out my stricken tongue
And writ wouldn’t be to you, my own homáge.

A spectacular muse write. Once again I am awed by your pen.