Israfel

In Heaven a spirit doth dwell
  "Whose heart-strings are a lute";
  None sing so wildly well
  As the angel Israfel,
  And the giddy stars (so legends tell),
  Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell
  Of his voice, all mute.

  Tottering above
  In her highest noon,
  The enamored moon
  Blushes with love,
  While, to listen, the red levin
  (With the rapid Pleiads, even,
  Which were seven,)
  Pauses in Heaven.

  And they say (the starry choir
  And the other listening things)
  That Israfeli's fire
  Is owing to that lyre
  By which he sits and sings-
  The trembling living wire
  Of those unusual strings.

  But the skies that angel trod,
  Where deep thoughts are a duty-
  Where Love's a grown-up God-
  Where the Houri glances are
  Imbued with all the beauty
  Which we worship in a star.

  Therefore thou art not wrong,
  Israfeli, who despisest
  An unimpassioned song;
  To thee the laurels belong,
  Best bard, because the wisest!
  Merrily live, and long!

  The ecstasies above
  With thy burning measures suit-
  Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
  With the fervor of thy lute-
  Well may the stars be mute!

  Yes, Heaven is thine; but this
  Is a world of sweets and sours;
  Our flowers are merely- flowers,
  And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
  Is the sunshine of ours.

  If I could dwell
  Where Israfel
  Hath dwelt, and he where I,
  He might not sing so wildly well
  A mortal melody,
  While a bolder note than this might swell
  From my lyre within the sky.

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Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe was an American author, poet, editor, and literary critic, considered part of the American Romantic Movement. he was especially known for his amazing poem "Annabelle Lee". And we love the songs made out of his poetry. more…

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"Israfel" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 24 Feb. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/8449/israfel>.

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