Arthur Henry Adams - The Girl At The Harp lyrics

LIKE Clotho, at her harp she sits and weaves With mystic fingers from the swaying strings A melody that ever louder sings And my charmed heart in vibrant rapture leaves All hers! And all her quiet life receives The peaceful melody which round her clings; She walks amid suave strains and murmurings That never doubt or strident discord cleaves. And from her singing harp she bends to grant My dear desire; and the poor monotone, That is my life, in her glad heart she takes, And, twining its dull phrases with her own Full-flowing theme of life, of both she makes The pæan of one love reverberant.