Poems (Angier)/Harps and Hearts
HARPS AND HEARTS.
There are harps in our breasts Of most delicate make,And many the tones which are heard; Now plaintive, now gay, Now so soft is their lay.The notes seem like those of a bird.
These harps God has tuned. Though broken they seem,They respond to their Maker's command; And mortals, too, play them, Words, deeds, and looks sway them,A breath hath these instruments fanned.
Our hearts are these harps— How sweet are their strainsWhen sympathy touches the chords; Then such melody's given, 'Tis echoed in heaven,Though whispered on earth are the words.
Then strike these harps daily, By deed, look, and word;Hearts around us are sighing for aid; And since some are sad, Whom a word can make glad,Say, shall not the kind word be said?
Though countless the stars, Heart-harps are not less,They are playing below and above; But wherever they be, They have one master-key—And the name of that one key is love.