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Monday, July 3, 2017


O the music to my soul
Knocks at my heart’s door!
The notes seems to know
Like they have been here before,
And this sadness it has taken
Like drops of rain upon the ground:–
Because a song brings happiness
Where sadness can’t be found.

The beautiful notes rise upward
Even where the Eagle must soar,
And brings contentment to my ears –
But the Lyre sounds no more!
Antiquity died along with the muse;
Forgotten voices no longer sings,
“Make me thy lyre” a poet cries –
My heart longs to hear your strings.

Epaphroditus© July 3, 2017 

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