Page:Poems, in two volumes (IA poemsintwovolume00word).pdf/102
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
90
POWER OF MUSIC.
An Orpheus! An Orpheus!—yes, Faith may grow bold,
And take to herself all the wonders of old;—
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same,
In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.
And take to herself all the wonders of old;—
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same,
In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.
His station is there;—and he works on the crowd,
He sways them with harmony merry and loud;
He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim—
Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him!
He sways them with harmony merry and loud;
He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim—
Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him!
What an eager assembly! what an empire is this!
The weary have life and the hungry have bliss;
The mourner is cheared, and the anxious have rest;
And the gilt-burthened Soul is no longer opprest.
The weary have life and the hungry have bliss;
The mourner is cheared, and the anxious have rest;
And the gilt-burthened Soul is no longer opprest.