 | The Shepherd's Garden |  |
67
THE FORCE OF MUSIC.
Strain not those chords whose trembling flow
Doth drown with frenzy my poor heart—
Whose currents from such fountains grow,
Whence Love renews his languished smart:
Too softly sad they fall and die,
Emblem of Hope's last fading sigh.
Doth drown with frenzy my poor heart—
Whose currents from such fountains grow,
Whence Love renews his languished smart:
Too softly sad they fall and die,
Emblem of Hope's last fading sigh.
But if thou wilt with music ease
My pains, translate my passion's book;
And, more the melody to please,
Bestow the grace of one kind look;
Then wrap my soul in harmony,
And let me through its sweetness die.
My pains, translate my passion's book;
And, more the melody to please,
Bestow the grace of one kind look;
Then wrap my soul in harmony,
And let me through its sweetness die.
| The Shepherd's Garden | |