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The string is so strained it’s gonna moan —
And I’d stop short of touching it today…

But I shall wait for ancient bells’ ding-dong,
I’ll bow my head to God and I’ll pray.

…What are these strings that fiercely wing the air,
Which tune would tug at heartstrings like a spell? —

The one that’ll reach the stars carrying my prayer:
“Please tell me where does my soul dwell?”