for some it lies no farther than the bend of the road; and there are others who much retrace their steps to glimpse it with longing through a weariness of years.
the closed flowers nod on slender stems, dew-wet and languid in the green gloom. . .deep and harmonious
. . .there was a magic in his music. lilting over the hills would sound the silver clamour of his reeds, and all the birds of the air would know to answer him.
he had walked sightless all his days, so music was his life and all of beauty in the sounds that came to him.
but sure there is always the music and a power to be dreaming!
where the long sun rays felling slanting
held fast in a spell of wonder
the morrow's still another day - and maybe the slower the you travel the more you'll be seeing.
shining through the darkness like a tethered star.
the chasm that yawned before him
knocked out his clay pipe on the door-post, finding the comfort gone from it.
the deep pools hold the shadow of flying cloud
their length of days; knowing a lost loveliness
when stars are strung and moonbeam drench the hill.
the old happiness and tranquility seemed as a dream in the ever-present reality of their distress
it chanced on a day when her trouble seemed sorest
thinking to busy her hands and ease the sad burden of her thoughts
but better than the fairy dowry she brought to him was the golden worth and treasure of her own true heart.
but for all her dejection there lingered a trace of gallantry
and may you hear my music in your heart when your strength gives out on you
and there was no laughter in him now, nor joy in simple things.
and only the magic of love, dear, can ever turn the key.
the closed flowers nod on slender stems, dew-wet and languid in the green gloom. . .deep and harmonious
. . .there was a magic in his music. lilting over the hills would sound the silver clamour of his reeds, and all the birds of the air would know to answer him.
he had walked sightless all his days, so music was his life and all of beauty in the sounds that came to him.
but sure there is always the music and a power to be dreaming!
where the long sun rays felling slanting
held fast in a spell of wonder
the morrow's still another day - and maybe the slower the you travel the more you'll be seeing.
shining through the darkness like a tethered star.
the chasm that yawned before him
knocked out his clay pipe on the door-post, finding the comfort gone from it.
the deep pools hold the shadow of flying cloud
their length of days; knowing a lost loveliness
when stars are strung and moonbeam drench the hill.
the old happiness and tranquility seemed as a dream in the ever-present reality of their distress
it chanced on a day when her trouble seemed sorest
thinking to busy her hands and ease the sad burden of her thoughts
but better than the fairy dowry she brought to him was the golden worth and treasure of her own true heart.
but for all her dejection there lingered a trace of gallantry
and may you hear my music in your heart when your strength gives out on you
and there was no laughter in him now, nor joy in simple things.
and only the magic of love, dear, can ever turn the key.
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