—
BY C. P. CRANCH.
—
Surely there is a soul within these strings,
So deeply thrills my own, when ‘mid thy chords,
Moving with eager hands, my whole frame rings
With inner music, far transcending words.
After absence long I open thee,
Dear friend, and late here linger at thy side,
To conjure up thy hidden harmony,
A boundless joy runs through me, as a tide
Filling the sandy channels and low shores
Left by the ebb of feelings that depart,
And the dull slime of tame monotonous hours.
Thy dear delicious voice, Harp of my heart,
Hath won me back to thoughts of noble height,
And wrapped me in a reverie of delight.
