Piano

So softly...in the evening,
When the shadows pull the earth.
The piano starts its trebling,
Like sweet music giving birth.

And I stand in tranquil beauty,
By the alcove's clinging vine.
Listening softly to those notelets,
That softly mix and entertwine.

For the hand that takes them swinging,
On the key-board's high and lows.
Makes the notelets much more sweeter,
Where the run of beauty flows.

Wind-chimes rising to the turret,
And coming down to meet my ear.
Like tinkling bells unloosed to ringing,
That are sounding out so clear.

O the Piano...the Piano,
So much in me...is praise.
As the ivory keys give music,
In sweet tones that upward raise.

E.P. 1908 - 1989