The blinded figure, seated on the sphere with her broken lyre, is bending her ear to catch what music she may from the last remaining string. She cannot see the star shining above her; one by one the sweet notes of music have been taken from her, but still she sits, bowed but not broken, plucking with tender fingers whatever melody she may from the last string of those that gave her the full harmonies of beauty. She has no vision either of the star above or of the world of darkness and gloom below. Her attitude of dejection almost rejects the conventional idea that there is happiness to be found when everything seems lost, but the picture suggests the larger hope of the world that there is peace and light above the turmoil and sorrow of the earth.
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