Well, it's just a short poem, to which I set a melody- it's really better, sung:

Harp on the willow tree now it is hung,
One man, one faith, one God, to them I clung;
Sweet were the songs of life- now they are sung.
Harp on the willow tree now it is hung.

Dear little son of mine, child on your knee,
Sing him your songs of life- let him fly free!
Dear little son of mine, child on your knee,
Sing them for you, for him, sing them for me.