Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE OLD VIOLIN, by MAURICE FRANCIS EGAN



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THE OLD VIOLIN, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Though tuneless, stringless, it lies there in the dust
Last Line: A master-touch! -- its sweet soul wakes and sings.
Subject(s): Violins


THOUGH tuneless, stringless, it lies there in dust,
Like some great thought on a forgotten page;
The soul of music cannot fade or rust, --
The voice within it stronger grows with age;
Its strings and bow are only trifling things --
A master-touch! -- its sweet soul wakes and sings.





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