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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=532687" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Heard Immanuel Singing</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I heard Immanuel singing <br>Within his own good lands,<br>I saw him bend above his harp.<br>I watched his wandering hands<br>Lost amid the harp-strings;<br>Sweet, sweet I heard him play.<br>His wounds were altogether healed.<br>Old things had passed away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All things were new, but music.<br>The blood of David ran<br>Within the Son of David,<br>Our God, the Son of Man.<br>He was ruddy like a shepherd.<br>His bold young face, how fair.<br>Apollo of the silver bow<br>Had not such flowing hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw Immanuel singing <br>On a tree-girdled hill. <br>The glad remembering branches <br>Dimly echoed still<br>The grand new song proclaiming<br>The Lamb that had been slain.<br>New-built, the Holy City<br>Gleamed in the murmuring plain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The crowning hours were over.<br>The pageants all were past.<br>Within the many mansions<br>The hosts, grown still at last,<br>In homes of holy mystery<br>Slept long by crooning springs<br>Or waked to peaceful glory,<br>A universe of Kings.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He left his people happy.<br>He wandered free to sigh<br>Alone in lowly friendship<br>With the green grass and the sky.<br>He murmured ancient music<br>His red heart burned to sing<br>Because his perfect conquest<br>Had grown a weary thing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No chant of gilded triumph— <br>His lonely song was made <br>Of Art's deliberate freedom;<br>Of minor chords arrayed <br>In soft and shadowy colors <br>That once were radiant flowers:—<br>The Rose of Sharon, bleeding <br>In Olive-shadowed bowers:— </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And all the other roses <br>In the songs of East and West <br>Of love and war and worshipping, <br>And every shield and crest <br>Of thistle or of lotus<br>Or sacred lily wrought<br>In creeds and psalms and palaces<br>And temples of white thought:—</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All these he sang, half-smiling <br>And weeping as he smiled, <br>Laughing, talking to his harp <br>As to a new-born child:—<br>As though the arts forgotten<br>But bloomed to prophecy<br>These careless, fearless harp-strings,<br>New-crying in the sky.<br>&quot;When this his hour of sorrow <br>For flowers and Arts of men<br>Has passed in ghostly music,&quot;<br>I asked my wild heart then—<br>What will he sing to-morrow,<br>What wonder, all his own<br>Alone, set free, rejoicing,<br>With a green hill for his throne?<br>What will he sing to-morrow<br>What wonder all his own<br>Alone, set free, rejoicing,<br>With a green hill for his throne?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Vachel+Lindsay">Vachel Lindsay</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=532687" data-title="I Heard Immanuel Singing de Vachel Lindsay" data-description="(The poem shows the Master, with his work done, singing to free his heart in Heaven.)


I heard Immanuel singing 
Within his own good lands,
I saw him bend above his harp.
I watched his wandering hands
Lost amid the harp-strings;
Sweet, sweet I he..."></div>
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