Whose kindly Heavings lull thy cares to Rest MS. E.
[[19]]
tetchy] fretful 1797.
TO THE REV. W. J. HORT[92:1]
WHILE TEACHING A YOUNG LADY SOME SONG-TUNES
ON HIS FLUTE
I
Hush! ye clamorous Cares! be mute!
Again, dear Harmonist! again
Thro' the hollow of thy flute
Breathe that passion-warbled strain:
Till Memory each form shall bring 5
The loveliest of her shadowy throng;
And Hope, that soars on sky-lark wing,
Carol wild her gladdest song!
II
O skill'd with magic spell to roll
The thrilling tones, that concentrate the soul! 10
Breathe thro' thy flute those tender notes again,
While near thee sits the chaste-eyed Maiden mild;
And bid her raise the Poet's kindred strain
In soft impassion'd voice, correctly wild.