First to the lively pipe his hand address’d;
But soon he saw the soul-awak’ning viol,
Whose tone his nobler judgment loved the best:
While, as his skilful fingers kiss’d the strings,
Wisdom and mirth framed a harmonious round:
Then wisdom gracious smiled, with zone unbound,
And mirth, amid his frolic play,
Beating brisk measure to the jocund lay,
Waved in the Sun his gaily burnished wings.