Harmony.
While to his Lyre he tunes his vocal Strains,
The very bloodless Ghosts Attention keep,
And silent, seem compassionate to weep:
Ev’n Tantalus, the Flood, unthirsty, views,
Nor flies the Stream, nor he the Stream pursues:
Ixion’s wond’ring Wheel its Whirl suspends,
And the voracious Vultur, charm’d, attends:
No more the Belides their Toil bemoan,
And Sisiphus sits list’ning on his Stone.
Then first, ’tis said, by Harmony subdu’d,
The Furies felt their Cheeks with Tears bedew’d.–
A Hill there was, and on that Hill a Mead,
With Verdure thick, but destitute of Shade:
Where, now, the Muse’s Son no sooner sings,
No sooner strikes his sweet resounding Strings,
But distant Groves the flying Sounds receive,
And list’ning Trees their rooted Stations leave:
Themselves transplanting, all around they grow,
And various Shades their various Kinds bestow.
Here, tall Cha
(Henry Baker)
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Based on Topics: Charm Poems, Flying Poems, Harmony PoemsBased on Keywords: vultur, transplanting, sisiphus, unthirsty