And thy liquid notes melt into one,
Like hearts of lovers in unison.
Yet sweeter far were thy tones that broke
The spell of silence when Eden woke,
And angel forms on their plumes delayed,
To list to thy notes ’mid the garden shade;
And, ceasing to sweep their chords of fire,
In wonder gazed on thy mimic lyre.
Since the eve when the stilly grove was stirred
By the voice of God in the garden heard,