A more gifted smith might write more splend’d words
A song of ever timeless love resung
Yet struggled, I write love’s ov’rwhelming hordes,
Lines a hundred strong or more: Heart’s song be-rung!

Hear the Opera, whence golden voices flow
A perfect concert of mood, engulfing light
With understood chains conscious minds don’t know
Finale reached, we then conclude that wond’rous night.

But there are songs which forever ring in pitch
Never losing strength with ceaseless power
Nor can Reaper claim these songs, that mighty lich!
In such songs, eternity will flower.

So long as men have song or keep powers of speech
Death cannot have vict’ry of things beyond his reach


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