The Harp
Across the wind-swept spaces of the sky The harp of all the world is hung on high, And through its shining strings the swallows fly. The little silver fingers of the rain Oft touch it softly to a low refrain, That all day long comes o'er and o'er again. And when the storms of God above it roll, The mighty wind awakes its sleeping soul To songs of wild delight or bitter dole. And through the quiet night, as faint and far As melody down-drifted from a star, Trembles strange music where those harp-strings are. But only flying words of joy and woe, Caught from the restless earth-bound souls below, Over the vibrant wires ebb and flow. And in the cities that men call their own, And in the unnamed places, waste and lone, This harp forever sounds Life's undertone.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Across the wind-swept spaces of the sky..."
"The Harp" is a quintessential example of Virna Sheard's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...