Page:The castle of Indolence - an allegorical poem - Written in imitation of Spenser (IA castleofindolenc00thomiala).pdf/29

 A certain Music, never known before, Here sooth'd the pensive melancholy Minds; Full easily obtain'd. Behoves no more, But sidelong, to the gently-waving Wind, To lay the well-tun'd Instrument reclin'd; From which, with airy flying Fingers light, Beyond each mortal Touch the most refin'd, The God of Winds drew Sounds of deep Delight:

Ah me! what Hand can touch the Strings so fine? Who up the lofty Diapasan roll Such sweet, such sad, such solemn Airs divine, Then let them down again into the Soul? Now rising Love they fan'd; now pleasing Dole They breath'd, in tender Musings, through the Heart; And now a graver sacred Strain they stole, As when Seraphic Hands an Hymn impart: