There is a lonely minor chord that sings <br />Faintly and far along the forest ways, <br />When the firs finger faintly on the strings <br />Of that rare violin the night wind plays, <br />Just as it whispered once to you and me <br />Beneath the English pines beyond the sea.<br /><br />Emily Pauline Johnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-firs/
