God sent his Singers upon earth <br />With songs of sadness and of mirth, <br />That they might touch the hearts of men, <br />And bring them back to heaven again. <br /> <br />The first, a youth, with soul of fire, <br />Held in his hand a golden lyre; <br />Through groves he wandered, and by streams, <br />Playing the music of our dreams. <br /> <br />The second, with a bearded face, <br />Stood singing in the market-place, <br />And stirred with accents deep and loud <br />The hearts of all the listening crowd. <br /> <br />A gray old man, the third and last, <br />Sang in cathedrals dim and vast, <br />While the majestic organ rolled <br />Contrition from its mouths of gold. <br /> <br />And those who heard the Singers three <br />Disputed which the best might be; <br />For still their music seemed to start <br />Discordant echoes in each heart, <br /> <br />But the great Master said, 'I see <br />No best in kind, but in degree; <br />I gave a various gift to each, <br />To charm, to strengthen, and to teach. <br /> <br />'These are the three great chords of might, <br />And he whose ear is tuned aright <br />Will hear no discord in the three, <br />But the most perfect harmony.'<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/by-the-fireside-the-singers/
