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lirik lagu ghizela rowe - ella wheeler wilcox - the musicians

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the strings of my heart were strung by pleasure
and i laughed when the music fell on my ear
for he and mirth played a joyful measure
and they played so loud that i could not hear
the wailing and mourning of souls a~weary ~
the strains of sorrow that floated around
for my heart’s notes rang out loud and cheery
and i heard no other sound

mirth and pleasure, the music brothers
played louder and louder in joyful glee;
but sometimes a discord was heard by others ~
though only the rhythm was heard by me
louder and louder, faster and faster
the hands of the brothers played strain on strain
when all of a sudden a mighty master
swept them aside; and pain

pain, the musician, the soul~refiner
restrung the strings of my quivering heart
and the air that he played was a plaintive minor
so sad that the tear~drops were forced to start;
each note was an echo of awful anguish
as shrill as solemn, as sharp as slow
and my soul for a reason seemed to languish
and faint with its weight of woe
with skilful hands that were never weary
this master of music played strain on strain
and between the bars of the miserere
he drew up the strings of my heart again
and i was filled with a vague, strange wonder
to see that they did not snap in two
‘they are drawn so tight, they will break assunder, ‘
i thought, but instead, they grew

in the hands of the master, firmer and stronger;
and i could hear on the stilly air ~
now my ears were deafened by mirth no longer ~
the sound of sorrow, and grief, and despair;
and my soul grew kinder and tender to others
my nature grew sweeter, my mind grew broad
and i held all men to be my brothers
linked by the chastening rod

my soul was lifted to god and heaven
and when on my heart~strings fell again
the hands of mirth, and pleasure, even
there was never a discord to mar the strain
for pain, the musician, and soul~refiner
attuned the strings with a master hand
and whether the music be major or minor
it is always sweet and grand


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