Her dark attendant dream of but her wealth;
That matron plan some fresh self-sacrifice;
And that spare fellow, twirling near her side
The soft mustache that downs his pursing lips,
Plan only how to hide their stingy look.
And thus all listen, musing different things;
And all, with conscious freedom, muse of them;
And yet one harmony controls them all,
Aroused or calm to match its changing flow.
What else but music frees the mind it rules?