THE PLAYERS ASK FOR A BLESSING ON THE PSALTERIES AND ON THEMSELVES
Three voices together:
HURRY to bless the hands that play, The mouths that speak, the notes and strings, O masters of the glittering town! O ! lay the shrilly trumpet down, Though drunken with the flags that sway Over the ramparts and the towers, And with the waving of your wings.
First voice:
Maybe they linger by the way. One gathers up his purple gown; One leans and mutters by the wall-- He dreads the weight of mortal hours.
Second voice:
O no, O no! they hurry down Like plovers that have heard the call.
O kinsmen of the Three in One, O kinsmen bless the hands that play. The notes they waken shall live on When all this heavy history's done; Our hands, our hands must ebb away.
Three voices together:
The proud and careless notes live on But bless our hands that ebb away.
