Poems (Chitwood)/Life's Harp
LIFE'S HARP.
Life's harp is in full tune this morn, As tho' twere touched with angel wings;For oh! such glorious music floats Along its golden strings.
It does not sing an olden strain, To taunt me with the shadowy past;It does not lead me back again To hours that could not last.
It tells me of a present joy, A joy till now unfelt, unknown—Life's harp is in full tune this morn, Celestial every tone.
It can not evermore be so, Or life were hemmed with angel wings;The dusts of change must fall, I know, And molder on its strings.
And note by note will pass away, And thrill, and break, and thrill again;Then shall the tune I try to play Be but a shattered strain.
And yet, methinks, the strain were sweet, For thought would gently lead me on,And memory make the tune complete Of life's delicious dawn.