HE touched the silver strings, while her dark eye At first the notes were tremulous, like the break Of rising colour on her delicate cheek, And varying, till at last their timid tone Fixed on an ancient air; such ones are known To the dove's nest, or to the olive wood, Where hath the nightingale her solitude. 168 ARIETTE FOR MUSIC. Her song found words, it was like the "sweet south," Breathing in odours from her rosebud mouth. It was an old song, of love and sorrow made, And sang so touchingly that it betrayed Those sad, deep thoughts, which haunt the youthful heart G. S. NEWTON. ARIETTE FOR MUSIC. S the moon's soft splendour, O'er the faint, cold, starlight of heaven So thy voice most tender, To the strings without soul, has given Its own. The stars will awaken, Though the moon sleep a full hour later No leaf will be shaken, While the dews of thy melody will scatter Delight. Though the sound overpowers, Sing again, with thy sweet voice revealing A tone Of some world far from ours, Where music, and moonlight, and feeling Are one. SHELLEY. SCOTTISH MUSIC. 100 TO A LADY, SINGING. H, breathe, melodious minstrel, once again Like sounds of summer eve, or some sweet strain Or charms the slumbering mourner. That Time's dim twilight hallows and endears, A spell from heaven by skill celestial wrought RICHARDSON. SCOTTISH MUSIC. GAIN, sweet siren, breathe again Fall soft as evening's summer dew, That bathes the pinks and hare-bells blue Which, in the vales of Teviot, blow. Oh! if, as ancient sages ween, Departed spirits, half unseen, Can mingle with the mortal throng, ΠΟ INVOCATION TO MUSIC. 'Tis when from heart to heart we roll That warbles in our Scottish song, I hear, I hear, with awful dreah, The plaintive music of the dead! They leave the amber fields of day Soft as the cadence of the wave, That murmurs round the mermaid's cave, They mingle in the magic lay. Sweet sounds! that oft have soothed to rest The sorrows of my guileless breast, And charmed away mine infant tears : That, in the wild, the traveller hears. JOHN LEYDEN. INVOCATION TO MUSIC. H, Music! sphere-descended maid, TO A SOLEMN MUSIC. Arise, as in that elder time, Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime !. Had more of strength, diviner rage, Confirm the tales her sons relate! COLLINS. TO A SOLEMN MUSIC. LEST pair of sirens, pledges of heaven's joy, Sphere-born, harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, That undisturbed song of pure concent, Aye sung before the sapphire-coloured throne To Him that sits thereon, With saintly shout and solemn jubilee ; III |