The speaker imagines her life as a harp with many possible strings, but she deliberately limits herself to two: love and death. There is a gentle, clear-eyed acceptance here. Rather than reaching for every experience or ambition, she chooses the two notes that feel most essential and most true. The question “what would the third one be?” is not desperate; it is almost wondering aloud, as if no other theme can compare. She knows her time is uncertain—she may forget, lose her ability, or simply leave before learning more. So she decides to play the strings she already knows while her hands are still light and sure. The mood is quiet, tender, and a little sad, but not gloomy. It feels like someone making peace with mortality and choosing to spend her remaining energy on what matters most.
The Harp — Summary
I HAVE a harp of many strings But two are enough for me : One is for love and one for death; And what would the third one be?
Before I learn another note I may forget and go, So while my hand is light and sure I play on the strings I know.