Classic Poem

Oh, touch me a strain on the Chords of Life,
Careless, and fresh, and sweet,
For youth is gazing with dewy eye,
And a bird on the bough sings merrily,
And the blossoms fall at our feet.
Then dance and carol a roundelay,
Like fairies that usher a feast in May,
A song that's fit for the baby's ear,
While the lilies shall laugh and lean to hear
What the zephyr may have to say.
Touch fleet!
Touch sweet!
Like fairies that feast in May.

Oh, strike me a strain on the Chords of Life,
Martial, and strong, and brave;
As the gale and the forest in glorious strife,
Or the storm-cloud kissing the wave.
For life is at noon and the stress is sweet,
And we march to the sound of hurrying feet;
A time for doing, a time for wooing,
In hall and cottage brave hearts are suing;
There's a call to arms in the lady's glance,
And the knight rides forth with level lance.
Then sweep the strings with a music bold,
Waken the songs of the days of old,
And echo them o'er the land!
Strike strong!
Strike long!
Oh, strike with a kingly hand!

Oh, gently now on the Chords of Life,
Gently, and sad, and slow!
Age is watching the paling sky,
The red leaves flutter swiftly by,
And the back-log smoulders low.
Glamor of childhood, yet more deep,
Comes back row by the hearth to sleep;
Faintly echoes the battle-call,
The sword hangs idly on the wall;
There's a patter or wolfish feet
Where the frost-pack follows fleet,
And we sit by the dreaming fire —
Silence our one desire.
Strike low!
Strike slow!
Silence our one desire!