(An exquisite, purely melodious lyre-music resounds from the cave.

To this day in Surinam the Dutch call them lyre-players.

A lyre-sound from the Paradise afar, A harp-note trembling from some gracious star, Seems the wild ear to fill; And my muse feels the Golden Shepherd-hours, When from thy lips the silver music pours Slow, as against its will.

What save these can set the lyre-strings ringing: Love and death?