The triumph of music :: :: University of Virginia Library

His injur'd nerves, too delicately strung!
Ach'd with new anguish, as they sweetly sung:
Soon from his cell of secrecy he stole,
To vent the wayward trouble of his soul.
In a quick billet, to Venusia sent,
He spoke, with kindness, of their kind intent;
But begg'd henceforth his weakness they will spare;
Since thanks and praise are things he cannot bear:
For he had faults to their pure minds unknown,
Faults! for which years of penitence must atone!
These, when the tumults of his heart subside
Haply his pen may to his guests confide;
Meantime their sweet devotion may diffuse
Peace o'er his mind, and hope's sublimest views,
If they address (his strange request forgiven)
Their thanks, in pure simplicity, to Heaven.
Thus on the morrow hoping to prolong
A pleas'd attention to their matin song,
He crav'd their pardon, that he shun'd their view;
Then fondly blest, and bade them both adieu.
The morrow came; and, with a zeal divine,
Lucilio's single voice first fill'd the shrine.