How few of us have kept the early joy, and have continued in
blest peace? Of course, you know the story of the lost chord?
A woman, in the shadows of the twilight, when her heart was
sad, gently touched the keys of a glorious organ. She did not
know nor care what she was playing; her fingers lingered idly
but caressingly upon the keys. Suddenly she struck a chord, and
its wondrous melody as it filled the room was uplifting and
transforming and heavenly.
It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an angel’s psalm,
And it lay on her fevered spirit
With the touch of infinite calm.
It quieted pain and sorrow,
Like love overcoming strife;
It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.
It linked all perplexed meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away in silence,
As if it were loath to cease.
Something disturbed this woman and called her from the organ. As
soon as possible she hurried back and began to play, but this
divine chord was gone, and tho she kept on playing she could not
bring it back again. (Text.)--CURTIS LEE LAWS.
(1889)