WHAT MAKES SONG LIVE?

Each of the songs I've sung

Took from my life a day,
'Twas something which I lived,
Not just a written lay.
Each line of every song
Was part of my own brain,
.The thoughts, they were my nerves,
The sounds were my heart's pain.
What moved that soul of yours
Was my own heartfelt grief;
What throbbed within the song
Were tears which brought relief.
For this my soul is .strung
Like strings upon a harp,
Each passing touch, each blow,
Wakes tones now sweet, now sharp.
It matters not what flows
Of good or ill therein
In song there only lives
What life itself puts in.
1884