ABSTRACT
Are dull with rust; The sweetest chords, adjusted by the angels,
Are clogged with dust; We pipe and pipe again our dreary music
Upon the self-same strains, While sounds of crime, and fear, and desolation,
Come back in sad refrains.
Are dull with rust; The sweetest chords, adjusted by the angels,
Are clogged with dust; We pipe and pipe again our dreary music
Upon the self-same strains, While sounds of crime, and fear, and desolation,
Come back in sad refrains.