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was in thy heart, and fast entwin'd, And closely knotted with its infant strings, Were the rich chords of melody. When youth And Science led thee to their classic bower A pale and patient student, the lone lamp Of midnight vigil, found thee pouring out Thy soul in dulcet sound. In Memory's cell, Still live those thrilling tones, as erst they broke Beguiling with sweet choral symphonies The festal hour. But lo! while thou didst wake The solemn organ to entrancing power, Tracing the secret spells of harmony, On through deep rapture's labyrinthine maze, Devotion came, and breath'd upon thy brow, And made her temple in thy tuneful breast. So, Music led thee to thy Saviour's feet, Serene and true disciple, and their harps Who fondly hold untiring guardianship O'er frail man's pilgrim-path, were tremulous With joy for thee. Nor vainly to thy soul Came Heaven's high message, wrapp'd in minstrelsy, For to its service, with unshrinking zeal The blossom of thy life was dedicate. Thy hand was on God's altar, when a touch Sudden and strange and icy-cold, unloos'd Its fervent grasp. Thy gentle heart was glad With the soft promise of a hallow'd love. But stern Death dash'd it out. Now there are tears