The Lute-Player Poem by John Bannister Tabb
The Lute-Player
He touched the strings; & lo, the strain-
As waters dimple to the rain-
Spontaneous rose and fell again.
In swaddling clothes or silence bound,
His genius a soul had found,
And wakened it to light and sound.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: rose,silence
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8/16/2026 6:54:57 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
