I know a lyre that is as priceless
As a sacred amulet;
A spirit with a master hand
Made it and cast it here.
No mortal hand of skill or love
Or power rouses it,
Nor makes it answer to the touch
With sound or voice or sigh.
Even the wise and beautiful,
The northwind and the breeze
Cannot awaken the sweet lyre!
Only the Sun-god's beams,
They with one kiss alone can make
Its sun-enamored strings
Sing Siren-like!