The power is in the touch, and not the strings.
A coarse, rude instrument, this world, at best:
Its strings made tense by selfishness and pride;
If by its discords music be expressed,
The music in our fingers must reside.
Remember this: in tune keep heart and hand,
And to earth’s music thou shalt hold the key,
And from its discords sweetest tones command,
Unknown and unimagined, save by thee.
