Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy (14 March 1844 – 30 January 1881 / London)
We Are the Music-Makers
We are the music-makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers and world-forsakers,
Upon whom the pale moon gleams;
Yet we are the movers and shakers,
Of the world forever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure
Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveh with our sighing,
And Babel itself with our mirth;
And o'erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.
Read poems about / on: dream, birth, music, world, song, moon, sea, city
Comments about this poem (We Are the Music-Makers by Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy )
PoemHunter.com Updates
-
Poem of The Day from a Member
'Craigellachie' by Doug Bentley
-
Modern Poem of The Day
'The Good Man in Hell' by Edwin Muir
-
Carlos Fuentes died, at the age of 83.
one of the most prolific and best known Spanish-language authors, known for fiction and political essays (1928-2012)
-
Poem of The Day from a Member
'Do Not Put Asunder' by Suzette Crous
Top 500 Poems
-
Phenomenal Woman
Maya Angelou
-
Still I Rise
Maya Angelou
-
The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost
-
If You Forget Me
Pablo Neruda
-
Dreams
Langston Hughes
-
Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe
-
If
Rudyard Kipling
-
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Pablo Neruda
-
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Maya Angelou
-
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe

The version posted elsewhere on this site (http: //www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-2/) is more correct. There, the sixth line reads, 'On whom the pale moon gleams' not 'Upon whom the pale moon gleams' as it appears here.
One of my favorites.always a ten! ! !
This isn't the full poem. Do you know of anywhere that has the full thing?