Explore "The Rosary" by Joyce Kilmer on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Not on the lute, or harp of many strings / Shall all men praise the Master of all song. / Our life is brief, one saith, and art is long; / And skilled must be the laureates of kings. / Silent, O lips that utter foolish things! / Rest, awkward fingers striking all notes wrong! / How from your toil shall issue, white and strong, / Music like that God's chosen poet sings?
There is one harp that any hand can play, / And from its strings what harmonies arise! / There is one song that any mouth can say, -- / A song that lingers when all singing dies. / When on their beads our Mother's children pray, / Immortal music charms the grateful skies.