Dialogue
Soul:THERE is no stronger thing than song;In sun and rain and leafy treesIt wafts the timid soul alongOn crested waves of melodies.Body: But leaves the body bare to feedIts hunger with its very need.Soul: Although the frenzied belly writhes,Yet render up in song your tithes;Song is the weakling’s oaken rod,His Jacob’s ladder dropped from God.Body: Song is not drink; song is not meat,Nor strong, thick shoes for naked feet.Soul: Who sings by unseen hands is fedWith honeyed milk and warm, white bread;His ways in pastures green are led,And perfumed oil illumes his head;His cup with wine is surfeited,And when the last low note is read,He sings among the lipless deadWith singing stars to crown his head.Body: But will song buy a wooden boxThe length of me from toe to crown,To keep me safe from carrion flocksWhen singing’s done and lyre laid down?
Soul:THERE is no stronger thing than song;In sun and rain and leafy treesIt wafts the timid soul alongOn crested waves of melodies.Body: But leaves the body bare to feedIts hunger with its very need.Soul: Although the frenzied belly writhes,Yet render up in song your tithes;Song is the weakling’s oaken rod,His Jacob’s ladder dropped from God.Body: Song is not drink; song is not meat,Nor strong, thick shoes for naked feet.Soul: Who sings by unseen hands is fedWith honeyed milk and warm, white bread;His ways in pastures green are led,And perfumed oil illumes his head;His cup with wine is surfeited,And when the last low note is read,He sings among the lipless deadWith singing stars to crown his head.Body: But will song buy a wooden boxThe length of me from toe to crown,To keep me safe from carrion flocksWhen singing’s done and lyre laid down?
Soul:THERE is no stronger thing than song;In sun and rain and leafy treesIt wafts the timid soul alongOn crested waves of melodies.
Soul:THERE is no stronger thing than song;
THERE is no stronger thing than song;
In sun and rain and leafy trees
It wafts the timid soul along
On crested waves of melodies.
Body: But leaves the body bare to feedIts hunger with its very need.
Body: But leaves the body bare to feed
Its hunger with its very need.
Soul: Although the frenzied belly writhes,Yet render up in song your tithes;Song is the weakling’s oaken rod,His Jacob’s ladder dropped from God.
Soul: Although the frenzied belly writhes,
Yet render up in song your tithes;
Song is the weakling’s oaken rod,
His Jacob’s ladder dropped from God.
Body: Song is not drink; song is not meat,Nor strong, thick shoes for naked feet.
Body: Song is not drink; song is not meat,
Nor strong, thick shoes for naked feet.
Soul: Who sings by unseen hands is fedWith honeyed milk and warm, white bread;His ways in pastures green are led,And perfumed oil illumes his head;His cup with wine is surfeited,And when the last low note is read,He sings among the lipless deadWith singing stars to crown his head.
Soul: Who sings by unseen hands is fed
With honeyed milk and warm, white bread;
His ways in pastures green are led,
And perfumed oil illumes his head;
His cup with wine is surfeited,
And when the last low note is read,
He sings among the lipless dead
With singing stars to crown his head.
Body: But will song buy a wooden boxThe length of me from toe to crown,To keep me safe from carrion flocksWhen singing’s done and lyre laid down?
Body: But will song buy a wooden box
The length of me from toe to crown,
To keep me safe from carrion flocks
When singing’s done and lyre laid down?