In silence stood they, while the Demon gazed
On all, and communed with departed Time,
From whence his vengeance such a harvest reap'd.
BEAUTIFUL INFLUENCES.
Who hath not felt the magic of a voice,—
Its spirit haunt him in romantic hours?
Who hath not heard from Melody's own lips
Sounds that become a music to his mind?—
Music is heaven! and in the festive dome,
When throbs the lyre, as if instinct with life,