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Felicia Dorothea Hemans - Address To Music
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OH thou! whose soft, bewitching lyre,
	Can lull the sting of pain to rest;
	Oh thou! whose warbling notes inspire,
	The pensive muse with visions blest;
	Sweet music! let thy melting airs
	Enhance my joys, and sooth my cares!

	Is there enchantment in thy voice,
	Thy dulcet harp, thy moving measure;
	To bid the mournful mind rejoice,
	To raise the fairy form of pleasure?
	Yes, heav`nly maid! a charm is thine,
	A magic art, a spell divine!

	Sweet music! when thy notes we hear,
	Some dear remembrance oft they bring,
	Of friends belov`d, no longer near,
	And days that flew on rapture`s wing;
	Hours of delight that long are past,
	And dreams of joy, too bright to last!

	And oft `tis thine the soul to fire,
	With glory`s animating flame,
	Bid valor`s noble sons aspire
	To win th` immortal wreath of fame
	Thine too, the soft, expressive tones,
	That pity, tender pity owns!

	Oh harmony! celestial pow`r!
	Thou syren of the melting soul!
	In sorrow`s reign, in pleasure`s hour,
	My heart shall own thy blest control;
	And ever let thy moving airs,
	Enhance my joys and sooth my cares!
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