 | The battle of Niagara |  |
Wild sounds but sweet! the silky tune
Of fairies playing to the moon;
The sprightly flourish of the horn,
That underneath the blooming thorn,
Pipes sharply to the freshening morn;
The threaded melodies that sing
From blossomed harps of cobweb string:
The busy chirping minstrelsy,
Of Evening's myriads in their glee;
When every bright musician sings
With voice, and instrument and wings:
When all at once the concert breaks—
A multitude of tingling shakes!—
When glittering, miniature guitars,
And harps, embossed with diamond stars,
Equipped with fiery wings, take flight
In musick past the ear of Night:
When all around,
Ye hear the sound
Of windy bugles, plucked while blowing,
Strown loose upon the stream, and going,
In sweet farewells,
Like living shells,
Or fountains singing while they're flowing.
Of fairies playing to the moon;
The sprightly flourish of the horn,
That underneath the blooming thorn,
Pipes sharply to the freshening morn;
The threaded melodies that sing
From blossomed harps of cobweb string:
211
Of Evening's myriads in their glee;
When every bright musician sings
With voice, and instrument and wings:
When all at once the concert breaks—
A multitude of tingling shakes!—
When glittering, miniature guitars,
And harps, embossed with diamond stars,
Equipped with fiery wings, take flight
In musick past the ear of Night:
When all around,
Ye hear the sound
Of windy bugles, plucked while blowing,
Strown loose upon the stream, and going,
In sweet farewells,
Like living shells,
Or fountains singing while they're flowing.
| The battle of Niagara | |