Summary

Portrait of Emma Tatham Emma Tatham The Dream of Pythagoras and Other Poems

I could well Have drown'd my spark of immortality In drunkeness of peace; I knew not yet The warrior life of virtue, and the high And honourable strife and storm that cleanse And exercise her pinions. I was now To learn the rapture of struggle made For immortality and truth; therefore The ocean toss'd me to his mountain chains, Bidding me front the tempest; fires of heaven Were dancing o'er his cataracts, and scared His sounding billows; glorious thunders roll'd Beneath, above, around; the strong winds fought, Lifting up pyramids of tortured waves, Then dashing them to foam.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Emma Tatham Emma Tatham The Dream of Pythagoras and Other Poems

There first my soul drank my music, and was taught That melody is part of heaven, and lives In every heaven-born spirit like her breath; There did I learn, that music without end Breathes, murmurs, swells, echoes, and floats, and peals, And thunders through creation, and in truth Is celestial language, and the voice Of love; and now my soul began to speak The speech of immortality. But yet I was to learn a lesson more severe – To shine alone in darkness, and the deeps Of sordid earth.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Emma Tatham Emma Tatham The Dream of Pythagoras and Other Poems

My children, listen; let the soul Hear her mysterious origin, and trace Her backward path to heaven. 'Tvas but a dream; And yet from shadows we may learn the shape And substance of undying truth. Methought In vision I beheld the first beginning And after-changes of my soul. O joy! She is of no mean origin, but sprang From loftier source than stars or sunbeam know.
Source: Wikisource

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