From their tiny finger-tips.
Oh the winds enfold the mountains
And the seas draw down the stars;
Still they sigh and murmur ever,
“Never love so pure as hers.”
And the notes forever rising
Echo back in spheric music,
“Never mortals loved as these.”
From their tiny finger-tips.
Oh the winds enfold the mountains
And the seas draw down the stars;
Still they sigh and murmur ever,
“Never love so pure as hers.”
And the notes forever rising
Echo back in spheric music,
“Never mortals loved as these.”