THE dumb man asked the blind man:
“Canst do a favor, pray?
Could I the harper find, man?
Hast seen him pass to-day?
I take, myself, small pleasure
In harp-tones — almost none —
Yet much I’d like a measure
Played for my deaf young son.”
The blind man quick made answer:
“I saw him pass my gate;
I’ll send my lame young man, sir,
To overtake him straight.”
At one look from his master,
Away the cripple ran,
And faster, ever faster,
He chased the harper-man.
The harper came, elated,
And straight to work he went;
His arms were amputated;
His toes to work he bent.
All hearts his playing captured;
The deaf man was all ear;
The blind man gazed, enraptured;
The dumb man shouted, “Hear!”
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The lame boy fell to dancing,
And leaped with all his might;
The scene was so entrancing,
They stayed till late at night.
And when the concert ended,
The public, justly proud,
The artist’s powers commended,
Who, deeply grateful, bowed.