The Harper

hen the sun touched the brow of every hill
Sweet music flowed like a stream
Over everything it teemed
And the village did awake to the day.
When the sun touched the door of every home
Every child, woman, man stood together on the land
And the travelling man came tripping down the lane.

The harper plays, the harper sings
And all the valley gently ringing with the song
And still we hear the song the harper plays.

As the morning passed into the afternoon
Still we listened to him play
No work was done that day
As he held us fast before him with his song.
He sat there with his harp upon his knee
His fingers danced upon the strings
As a spider surely spins
With silken sounds he wove into the air.

When the evening marked the passing of the day
His harp he gently laid it down
Picked the farthings from the ground
And without a word went tripping down the lane.
We stood a while as if within some dream
Then we shook our senses clear
But still we seem to hear
Each and every note the harper played.

The harper plays, the harper sings
And all the valley gently ringing with the song
And still we hear the song the harper plays.

Written and Composed by Bernie Parry

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