Page:The Art of Preserving Health - A Poem in Four Books.djvu/140

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 * There is a Charm: a Power that sways the breast;

Bids every Passion revel or be still; Inspires with Rage, or all your Cares dissolves; Can sooth Distraction, and almost Despair. That Power is Music: Far beyond the stretch Of those unmeaning warblers on our stage; Those clumsy Heroes, those fat-headed Gods, Who move no Passion justly but Contempt: Who, like our dancers (light indeed and strong!) Do wond'rous feats, but never heard of grace. The fault is ours; we bear those monstrous arts, Good Heaven! we praise them: we, with loudest peals, Applaud the fool that highest lifts his heels; And, with insipid shew of rapture, die Of ideot notes, impertinently long. Rh