Excerpt from Poems
To The Lyre.
Blest gift of Heaven, whose numbers flow
To heighten joy, or soften woe,
Divinely breathing lyre!
Illumining our earthly state,
And chequer"d scenes of human fate,
With softly beaming fire:
By thee are aspirations given,
With which the soul mounts nearer heaven,
On Harmony"s enchanted wings;
And feels her origin divine,
Acknowledging thy voice a sign
Of more than earthly things.
Thy power was own"d in olden day,
Which recognised thy potent sway
O"er natures wild and rude;
And deem"d that Orpheus" magic skill
Made beasts and rocks obey his will,
And charm"d the listening wood;
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