HE touched the silver strings, while her dark eye At first the notes were tremulous, like the break Of rising colour on her delicate cheek, And varying, till at last their timid tone Fixed on an ancient air; such ones are known To the dove's nest, or to the olive wood, Where hath the nightingale her solitude. 168 ARIETTE FOR MUSIC. Her song found words, it was like the "sweet south," Breathing in odours from her rosebud mouth. It was an old song, of love and sorrow made, And sang so touchingly that it betrayed Those sad, deep thoughts, which haunt the youthful heart G. S. NEWTON. ARIETTE FOR MUSIC. S the moon's soft splendour, O'er the faint, cold, starlight of heaven So thy voice most tender, To the strings without soul, has given Its own. The stars will awaken, Though the moon sleep a full hour later No leaf will be shaken, While the dews of thy melody will scatter Delight. Though the sound overpowers, Sing again, with thy sweet voice revealing A tone Of some world far from ours, Where music, and moonlight, and feeling Are one. SHELLEY. SCOTTISH MUSIC. 109 TO A LADY, SINGING. H, breathe, melodious minstrel, once again Or charms the slumbering mourner. That Time's dim twilight hallows and endears, A spell from heaven by skill celestial wrought RICHARDSON. SCOTTISH MUSIC. GAIN, sweet siren, breathe again Whose melting tones of tender woe Fall soft as evening's summer dew, That bathes the pinks and hare-bells blue Which, in the vales of Teviot, blow. Oh! if, as ancient sages ween, Departed spirits, half unseen, Can mingle with the mortal throng, TO A SOLEMN MUSIC. Arise, as in that elder time, Thy wonders, in that god-like age, 'Tis said, and I believe the tale, Thy humblest reed could more prevail, Had more of strength, diviner rage, Confirm the tales her sons relate ! COLLINS. TO A SOLEMN MUSIC. LEST pair of sirens, pledges of heaven's joy, Sphere-born, harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, With saintly shout and solemn jubilee ; III |