The violinist draws his bow, The harper touches string, And from the narrow court below Sweet music now takes wing. A merry tune, a gay refrain, A song of youth and love, Yet in my heart there comes a pain, And tears begin to move. It is the tune her fingers played Far in the days gone by; It seems to me it cannot fade From memory till I die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY ENVOYS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE STORM by KATHERINE MANSFIELD DOMESDAY BOOK: LILLI ALM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TOWARD THE GULF; DEDICATED TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |