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Israfel | Poems by Edgar Allan Poe · Ririro.com - Poetry

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  Speaker 1: And the angel Israphel, whose heart strings are elute, and
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  Speaker 1: who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. Koraan
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  Speaker 1: in heaven, a spirit doth dwell whose heart strings are elute.
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  Speaker 1: None sing so wildly well as the angel Israphael, and
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  Speaker 1: the giddy stars, so legends tell, ceasing their hymns, attend
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  Speaker 1: the spell of his voice, all mute, tottering above in
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  Speaker 1: her highest noon, the enamored moon blushes with love, while
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  Speaker 1: to listen the red leavin with the rapid pleiads, even
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  Speaker 1: which were seven pauses in heaven. And they say, the
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  Speaker 1: starry choir in all the listening things that Israfeli's fire
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  Speaker 1: is owing to that lyre by which he sits and
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  Speaker 1: sings the trembling living wire of those unusual strings. But
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  Speaker 1: the skies that angel trod, where deep thoughts are a duty,
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  Speaker 1: where loves are grown up God, where the hoary glances
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  Speaker 1: are imbued with all the beauty which we worship in
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  Speaker 1: a star. Therefore thou art not wrong. Israepheli, who despisest
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  Speaker 1: an unimpassioned song to thee. The laurels belong best barred,
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  Speaker 1: because the wisest merely live and long the ecstasies above.
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  Speaker 1: With thy burning measures, suit thy grief, thy joy, thy hate,
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  Speaker 1: thy love, with the fervor of thy lute. Well may
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  Speaker 1: the stars be mute. Yes, heaven is thine, but this
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  Speaker 1: is a world of sweets and sours. Our flowers are
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  Speaker 1: merely flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss is
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  Speaker 1: the sunshine of ours. If I could dwell where Israfel
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  Speaker 1: hath dwelt, and he where I he might not sing
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  Speaker 1: so wildly well a mortal melody, while a bolder note
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  Speaker 1: than this might swell from my lyre within the sky.