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Poem by Philip James Bailey


A Myth


Apollo laid his lyre upon a stone;
The stone was seized with music; and the touch
Of mortal could awake the god's own tone
For ever after. Marvel ye not much.
Wherever God may choose, or man may dwell,
This is an ever acting miracle.

When once the gift of godlike poesy
Hath touched the heart, it answers everything
In its own tongue, but with a harmony
Instinct of Heaven. Let the world then, fling
Its arms of honour round the Poet's breast,
And Heaven may hear Earth's music, and have rest.



Philip James Bailey


Philip James Bailey's other poems:
  1. Festus - 37
  2. Festus - 11
  3. Festus - Proem
  4. Festus - 38
  5. Festus - Dedication


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