That doth reject all shew of pride, admits no outward sign,
Because not of this noisy world, but silent and divine!

Whatever be the cause, 'tis sure that they who pry & pore
Seem to meet with little gain, seem less happy than before: 30
One after One they take their turns, nor have I one espied
That doth not slackly go away, as if dissatisfied.






_POWER OF MUSIC_.


An Orpheus! An Orpheus!--yes, Faith may grow bold,
And take to herself all the wonders of old;--
Near the stately Pantheon you'll meet with the same,
In the street that from Oxford hath borrowed its name.

His station is there;--and he works on the crowd,
He sways them with harmony merry and loud;
He fills with his power all their hearts to the brim--
Was aught ever heard like his fiddle and him!

What an eager assembly! what an empire is this!
The weary have life and the hungry have bliss; 10
The mourner is cheared, and the anxious have rest;
And the guilt-burthened Soul is no longer opprest.