Publisher's Synopsis
Strings in the earth and airMake music sweet;Strings by the river whereThe willows meet.There's music along the riverFor Love wanders there, Pale flowers on his mantle, Dark leaves on his hair.All softly playing, With head to the music bent, And fingers strayingUpon an instrument.3IIThe twilight turns from amethystTo deep and deeper blue, The lamp fills with a pale green glowThe trees of the avenue.The old piano plays an air, Sedate and slow and gay;She bends upon the yellow keys, Her head inclines this way.Shy thought and grave wide eyes and handsThat wander as they list-The twilight turns to darker blueWith lights of amethyst.4IIIAt that hour when all things have repose, O lonely watcher of the skies, Do you hear the night wind and the sighsOf harps playing unto Love to uncloseThe pale gates of sunrise?When all things repose, do you aloneAwake to hear the sweet harps playTo Love before him on his way, And the night wind answering in antiphonTill night is overgone?Play on, invisible harps, unto Love, Whose way in heaven is aglowAt that hour when soft lights come and go, Soft sweet music in the air aboveAnd in the earth below.5IVWhen the shy star goes forth in heavenAll maidenly, disconsolate, Hear you amid the drowsy evenOne who is singing by your gate.His song is softer than the dewAnd he is come to visit you.O bend no more in reveryWhen he at eventide is calling, Nor muse: Who may this singer beWhose song about my heart is falling?Know you by this, the lover's chant, 'Tis I that am your visitant.6VLean out of the window, Goldenhair, I hear you singingA merry air.My book was closed, I read no more, Watching the fire
