The Origin of Music by John Hanmer

“And his brother’s name was Jubal: he was the father of all such as handle the harp and the organ.” — Gen. c. 4.

The generations of the race of Cain,
Children and sire have vanished from the earth,
Yet do the arts they multiplied remain,
Though the wide heavens were opened and the rain
Whelmed with its flood the world’s sin-wasted birth;
Oh ’twas not in the revelling house of mirth
Deep music, that thy earliest strains were born,
But in the wandering dwellings and forlorn
Of those blood-haunted fugitives— -then first
Did sorrow find a loving utterance there.
And hope from thronging sounds divinely burst,
And thoughts rush forth that speech did never dare,
E’en their dread father less supremely curst
Seemed, in such accents mingling with their prayer.

From: Hanmer, John, Fra Cipolla and Other Poems, 1839, Edward Moxon: London, p. 129.
(https://archive.org/stream/fracipollaandot00hanmgoog#page/n146/mode/2up)

Date: 1839

By: John Hanmer (1809-1881)

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