All sounds have been as music to my listening: <br />Pacific lamentations of slow bells, <br />The crunch of boots on blue snow rosy-glistening, <br />Shuffle of autumn leaves; and all farewells: <br /> <br />Bugles that sadden all the evening air, <br />And country bells clamouring their last appeals <br />Before [the] music of the evening prayer; <br />Bridges, sonorous under carriage wheels. <br /> <br />Gurgle of sluicing surge through hollow rocks, <br />The gluttonous lapping of the waves on weeds, <br />Whisper of grass; the myriad-tinkling flocks, <br />The warbling drawl of flutes and shepherds' reeds. <br /> <br />The orchestral noises of October nights <br />Blowing ( ) symphonetic storms <br />Of startled clarions ( ) <br />Drums, rumbling and rolling thunderous and ( ). <br /> <br />Thrilling of throstles in the keen blue dawn, <br />Bees fumbling and fuming over sainfoin-fields.<br /><br />Wilfred Owen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-know-the-music/
