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William Collins
Quote #12
'T was sad by fits, by starts 't was wild.
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Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspired.
With eyes up-raised, as one inspired, Pale Melancholy sate retired, And from her wild sequestered seat, In notes by distance made more swee…
When Music, heavenly maid, was young, While yet in early Greece she sung.
Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.
For when thy folding-star arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant hours, and elves Who slept in buds the day, And …
O Music! sphere-descended maid, Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid!
Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat, With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small bu…
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest!
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