Now we think that there must be

In thee some humanity,*

Such a taste composed and fine
Smiles along that touch of thine.

Now we call thee heavenly rain,

For thy fresh, continued strain ;

Now a hail, that on the ground

Splits into light leaps of sound;

Now the concert, neat and nice,

Of a pigmy paradise ;

Sprinkles then from singing fountains;

Fairies heard on tops of mountains;
Nightingales endued with art,

Caught in listening to Mozart:

For this and the other beautiful thought in the closing line of the paragraph the author is indebted to two friends who enjoyed the music with him, the former to the Gentleman who treated him with it, the latter to a Lady.

Stars that make a distant tinkling,

While their happy eyes are twinkling; Sounds for scattered rills to flow to; Music, for the flowers to grow to.

O thou sweet and sudden pleasure,
Dropping in the lap of leisure,

Essence of harmonious joy,

Epithet-exhausting toy,

Well may lovely hands and eyes
Start at thee in sweet surprise;

Nor will we consent to see
In thee mere machinery,

But recur to the great springs
Of divine and human things,
And acknowledge thee a lesson
For despondence to lay stress on,

Waiting with a placid sorrow

What may come from Heaven to-morrow, And the music hoped at last,

When this jarring life is past.

Come then, for another strain:
We must have thee o'er again.

SONG.

Written to be set to music by VINCENT NOVELLO.

WHEN lovely sounds about my ears
Like winds in Eden's tree-tops rise,
And make me, though my spirit hears,
For very luxury close my eyes,
Let none but friends be round about

Who love the smoothing joy like me,
That so the charm be felt throughout,

And all be harmony.

And when we reach the close divine,
Then let the hand of her I love

Come with it's gentle palm on mine
As soft as snow or lighting dove;

And let, by stealth, that more than friend
Look sweetness in my opening eyes,
For only so such dreams should end,
Or wake in Paradise.