’Twas he that still employed the master’s hand,
Follow’d obsequious by the list’ning Band;
Nay swore, that Kelly learnt from him the art
To rule with magic sounds the human heart!
The Harpsichord, the fav’rite of the fair,
Talk’d much of them, and plac’d his merits there.
Clamour on clamour grew, each prais’d his own,
And strove his neighbour’s merits to run down;
Till frightened Harmony forsook the room,
And crashing Discord shook the lofty dome;