Classic Poem

Beneath her touch the keys take life,
And carol sweetly as a bird
At dawn, before the toil and strife
Of day are heard;

Then, changing, chant a tender song
And potent; so a syren's strain
Sounds to his ears who, sea-tost long,
Sights land again.

Spell-bound I stand; her hand, her arm,
Her lovely face are all I see;
Her beauty and her music charm
And capture me.