Music

If music doth soothe my soul,
Then thou art the instrument of love
Whose melody, maketh most man
Once wise, are now become fools.
And thy voice tinkles like wind chimes,
Soft and clear, a calming tune.
A note rising above the rest
Of mundane, toneless, sounds
Yes, music doth soothe my soul,
And thou art the instrument of my love
Who hath playeth the Piper’s Song,
Leading me blindly to thine river.

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