 | The triumph of music |  |
145
SONNET.
FORGIVE! forgive! forgive! it is the word,
The heart should ever to itself repeat;
A serious duty, in performance sweet!
Forgive! forgive! forgive! so should the bird,
Where birds are taught to speak, be hourly heard,
Giving a lesson, altho' brief, compleat,
To earth's proud lord, who, in imperious heat,
Forgets the bounties by his God conferr'd.
The heart should ever to itself repeat;
A serious duty, in performance sweet!
Forgive! forgive! forgive! so should the bird,
Where birds are taught to speak, be hourly heard,
Giving a lesson, altho' brief, compleat,
To earth's proud lord, who, in imperious heat,
Forgets the bounties by his God conferr'd.
Of all his bounties none that law exceed,
Which his kind love to guide our blindness gave,
To merit, and ensure, what oft we crave,
His pardon for ourselves, which all must need
By pardoning others, so frail man is freed,
And mercy joys in passion's rescued slave.
Which his kind love to guide our blindness gave,
To merit, and ensure, what oft we crave,
His pardon for ourselves, which all must need
By pardoning others, so frail man is freed,
And mercy joys in passion's rescued slave.
| The triumph of music | |