Now we think that there must be In thee some humanity,* Such a taste composed and fine Now we call thee heavenly rain, For thy fresh, continued strain ; Now a hail, that on the ground Splits into light leaps of sound; Now the concert, neat and nice, Of a pigmy paradise ; Sprinkles then from singing fountains; Fairies heard on tops of mountains; Caught in listening to Mozart: For this and the other beautiful thought in the closing line of the paragraph the author is indebted to two friends who enjoyed the music with him, the former to the Gentleman who treated him with it, the latter to a Lady. Stars that make a distant tinkling, While their happy eyes are twinkling; Sounds for scattered rills to flow to; Music, for the flowers to grow to. O thou sweet and sudden pleasure, Essence of harmonious joy, Epithet-exhausting toy, Well may lovely hands and eyes Nor will we consent to see But recur to the great springs Waiting with a placid sorrow What may come from Heaven to-morrow, And the music hoped at last, When this jarring life is past. Come then, for another strain: SONG. Written to be set to music by VINCENT NOVELLO. WHEN lovely sounds about my ears Who love the smoothing joy like me, And all be harmony. |