The Harp is dual natured; Heaven and Earth 
Are parents of its birth; 
Heaven, the radiant mother, Earth, the sire 
Whose unappeased desire 
Reverberates and rings 
Along its throbbing strings. 

In sounds more eloquent than any words 
The Heavenly Mother speaks--in tender chords 
And tones that seem the echo from God's lands 
Of singing choral bands. 

The Spirit of Celestial music floats 
Great argosies of soft, melodious notes 
Down the high octaves to their port and goal, 
The human soul. 

Then from some deep sea place, where dwells the
    resonant bass, 
All suddenly the mortal passions wake 
And like wind-driven billows, rush and break 
Upon the heart and flood it with an ocean 
Of memory and emotion. 
Ambitions, aspirations, hopes and dreams 
Past, present, future, swirl in those great streams 
Of harmony; and over and above 
Sounds the clear call of love. 

Into her confidence has Nature taken 
The wondrous harp; so oft her strings are shaken 
By voices of the wind-- 
By erie laughter of the elfin kind-- 
By ripple of the brooks, by fall of leaves 
And by the ebbing tide that sighs and grieves-- 
By whirr of wings at dawn--by that sweet word 
Uttered in deep wood trysts twixt bird and bird 
At mating time--yea all that Nature feels 
And knows and understands, the Harp reveals.