Her Heart was Like a Violin by Myra Morris

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Her heart was like a violin
   Upon whose strings there strayed
Only the singing of the earth--
   The songs that nature made.  

There roamed the voices of the winds,
   The croon of lazy seas,
And little muted murmurings
   Of summer-sleepy bees.

There soared the song of loosened floods
   That laced the waterfalls--
The whisper of uncurling buds--
   A blackbird's madrigals!

Her heart was like a violin
   That sang undreamed of things,
And beauty was the magic bow
   That swept those living strings!

First published in The Australasian, 16 November 1929

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on November 16, 2014 8:39 AM.

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