Then bade his potent lyre control The mighty storm that rent his soul. Cease your cares: the body's pain Come, fair Repentance, from the skies, They come: O king, thine ear incline: Their voice shall every pang compose, To gentle sorrow soothe thy woes; Till each pure wish to heaven shall soar, And peace return, to part no more! Behold, obedient to their great command, The lifted dagger quits his trembling hand: Smooth'd is his brow, where sullen care And furrow'd horror couch'd with fell despair: No more his eyes with fury glow; But heavenly grief succeeds to hellborn woe. See the signs of grace appear: See the soft relenting tear Trickling at sweet Mercy's call! VOL. I. BB Yet, yet again?-Ah see, the pang returns; And quench the tortures of his soul. Stoop from heaven, ye raptured throng: For lo! dissolved by music's melting power, Thy God shall wound thy soul no more! Meets the pure returning mind. Now lowly let the rustic measure glide To quell the dark remains of self-consuming pride; Whose artless carols close the day. Holy Peace, though born above, Still pour thy radiance o'er my breast! Pride and Hate in courts may shine: [thine! The shepherd's calm and blameless tent is Softly, softly breathe your numbers; And wrap his wearied soul in slumbers! Gentle sleep, becalm his breast, And close his eyes in healing rest! Descend, celestial visions, ye who wait, God's ministering powers, at heaven's eternal gate! Ye, who nightly vigils keep, And rule the silent realms of sleep, Exalt the just to joys refined, And plunge in woe the guilty mind, Where light's unclouded fountains blaze; Your harps and voices join! His grief to bliss shall languish, Behold, with dawning joy each feature glows! 4 The fiend is fled!-Let music's rapture rise: Shake the dome, and pierce the skies: What power can every passion's throe control? What power can boast the charm divine To still the tempest of the soul? Celestial harmony, that mighty charm is thine! The beam of all-creative wisdom shone, At wisdom's call she robed yon glittering skies, [to rise; And saw that all was fair, and all was good. "Twas then, ye sons of God, in bright array Ye shouted o'er creation's day: Then, kindling into joy, The morning stars together sung; And through the vast ethereal sky Seraphic hymns and loud hosannas rung. DR. BROWN. |