The Barrel Organ

by Alfred Noyes

There's a barrel-organ caroling across a golden street,

In the City as the sun sinks low;

And the music's not immortal; but the world has made it sweet

And fulfilled it with the sunset glow;

And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain

That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light;

And they've given it a glory and a part to play again

In the Symphony that rules the day and the night.

And now it's marching onward through the realms of old romance,

And trolling out a fond familiar tune,

And now it's roaring cannon down to fight the King of France,

And now it's prattling softly to the moon,

And all around the organ there's a sea without a shore

Of human joys and wonders and regrets;

To remember and to recompense the music evermore

For what the cold machinery forgets. . . .

Yes; as the music changes,

Like a prismatic glass,

It takes the light and ranges

Through all the moods that pass;

Dissects the common carnival

Of passions and regrets,

And gives the world a glimpse of all

The colors it forgets.

And there LA TRAVIATA sights

Another sadder song;

And there IL TROVATORE cries

A tale of deeper wrong;

And bolder knights to battle go

With sword and shield and lance,

Than ever here on earth below

Have whirled into--A DANCE!--

Go down to Kew in lilac time; in lilac time; in lilac time;

Go down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn't far from London!)

And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland;

Go down to Kew in lilac time; (it isn't far from London!)

The cherry-trees are seas of bloom and soft perfume and sweet perfume,

The cherry-trees are seas of bloom (and oh, so near to London!)

And there they say, when dawn is high and all the world's a blaze of sky

The cuckoo, though he's very shy, will sing a song for London.

The nightingale is rather rare and yet they say you'll hear him there

At Kew, at Kew in lilac time (and oh, so near to London!)

The linnet and the throstle, too, and after dark the long halloo

And golden-eyed TU-WHIT, TU WHOO of owls that ogle London.

For Noah hardly knew a bird of any kind that isn't heard

At Kew, at Kew in lilac time (and oh, so near to London!)

And when the rose begins to pout and all the chestnut spires are out

You'll hear the rest without a doubt, all chorusing for London:--

COME DOWN TO KEW IN LILAC TIME; IN LILAC TIME; IN LILAC TIME;

COME DOWN TO KEW IN LILAC TIME; (IT ISN'T FAR FROM LONDON!)

AND YOU SHALL WANDER HAND IN HAND WITH LOVE IN SUMMER'S WONDERLAND;

COME DOWN TO KEW IN LILAC TIME; (IT ISN'T FAR FROM LONDON!)




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