Music in poetry

"...I listened, motionless and still; and, as I mounted up the hill, the music in my heart I bore, long after it was heard no more."

-- from The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850)

“...music heard so deeply, that it is not heard at all, but you are the music while the music lasts.”

-- from The Dry Salvages by TS Eliot (1888 - 1965)