Tens of strings, tense and waiting,
For psalmist sing and fingers playing.
“Hosanna!” they sing in their quiet voice,
Rhythmic, rhyming, to the harper’s choice.
Some are meant for the fireside,
While other’s in palaces do reside.
They string together a mournful tune,
Or tranquil and content like the sun and moon.
Song and stanza, hymn and psalm,
Create a wave of washing calm.
Music of simplicity, do you play,
Follow me home, and to the next day.