Explore "Melodies Unheard" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Musicians wrestle everywhere: / All day, among the crowded air, / I hear the silver strife; / And -- waking long before the dawn -- / Such transport breaks upon the town / I think it that "new life!"
It is not bird, it has no nest; / Nor band, in brass and scarlet dressed, / Nor tambourine, nor man; / It is not hymn from pulpit read, -- / The morning stars the treble led / On time's first afternoon!
Some say it is the spheres at play!
Some say that bright majority / Of vanished dames and men!
Some think it service in the place / Where we, with late, celestial face, / Please God, shall ascertain!