Music, all pow'rful o'er the human mind!
Can still each mental storm, each tumult calm;
Soothe anxious care on sleepless couch reclin'd,
And e'en fierce anger's furious rage disarm.

At her command, the varous passions lie,
She stirs to battle, or she lulls to peace,
Melts the charm'd soul to thrilling ecstasy,
And bids the jarring world's harsh clangour cease.

Soft thro' the dell the dying strains retire,
Then burst majestic, in the varied swell,
Now, breathe melodious as the Grecian lyre,
Or on the ear, in sinking cadence dwell.

Oh! surely Harmony from Heav'n was sent,
To cheer the soul when tir'd with human strife;
To soothe the wayward heart by sorrow rent,
And soften down the rugged road of life.