 | The triumph of music |  |
72
They made the shrine re-echo with their zeal;
Then paus'd.—With friendship eager, tho' sedate,
They now the promise of their host await.
The door half opens, that protects his cell,
And, with the prelude of a plaintive swell,
Rising to power, the harp's harmonious chord
Strengthen'd the tender voice of its dejected lord.
| The triumph of music | |