The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1878-01-24
MUSIC.
BY MRS. MoLLIE MITCHELL.

When God once bade each radiant constellation
Above darkened earth to brightly shine,
Kind Heaven gave to still life's vast commotion
The gift of Music, with its charm divine.
Thrice hallowed art, thy glorious reign began
Amid the splendor of the worlds young day,
And long as joy shall glad the heart OF naen
r Wilt thou retain thy all-inspiring sway.
Prfmeval man first learned thy harmony
CONJECTURE saitb) amid the desert lone;
Where Nature, to Thy measured symphony,
Attuned with sweetness each repeated tone.
about MIN swept the music-freehted gales
And warbled in their joy the feathery throng,
While high above the yet ;introdden wales,
Floated Ike waves the melody of song.
Each sylvan voice in unison combined
To thrill his heart with rapturous emotion,
Fen sombrous pines the minstrel chorus Joined,
And beautihed the hymn of inspiration.
When Israel's Shepherd King his flock attended,
Upon the sacred plains of Bethlehem,
Thou. Music too, vert there, thy pathos blended
With thoughts divine to form the grateful psalm.
-.,,ey tell us in the classic lore of Greece
fabled story which BELTS thee wen,
Bow OrpheUs' golden harp subdued to peace
The desert lion by its magic spell.
His strains the fiery demon could inspire,
While hostile tribes surrendered to their charm
The tigers rage grew mute before the Tyre,
And deadly reptiles lost the power to harm.
me hath rot rot bed thee of thy witching power,
Enchanting still to dwelers in the Wild
AS when rural Pan mid some Arcadian bower
With flute and song the shepherd ear beguiled.
As spirits pure are often led astray
Perverted from the work their God assigns,
So art thou turned from thy appointed way,
To furnish pleasure for the baser minds.
Thy tender strains have mingled with the cry
That discordant from a scene of woe,
As when Nero walked the sounds of melody
And gazed on struggling Rome in flames below.
To many learning heart thy minstrelsy
Brings sweetest memories of the long ago:
Milton found in thy notes sympathy Esr
And respite from the pangs of sightless woe.
How oft the wanderer in foreign cline
Greets with delight some wen-remembered strain !;
What recollectlons of a happier time
Wake at the cadence CT an old refrain
Recalling days when Fancy could beguile
His willing to heed its every tone,
And teach him with bright deiusive smile
That other lands were fairer than his OVID.
Oh tuneful art of origin divine, -
The soothing balm of earth's dark pilgrimage,
What gifted ones have knelt before thy shrine
And deemed thy worth q princely heritage!
What nerves the soldier on the field of strife,
AS DER his head the murky war clouds lower?
Reverberatlons of the drum and fife,
That rise above the battles deafening roar.
The dying saint oft half forgets his pain,
And swells the hymn of praise in feeblest tone
The faint notes pause, to Oe renewed again,
With angel voices round the eternal throne.
Enhancing Music, thine's holy mission,
When Offering solace in The hour OF trial,
Or rendering more sublime the hearts devotion
By anthems pealing through some minister aisle.
Thy notes resounded when our Lord was born,
And woke the shepherd from his meditation,
Who, gazing east upon that glorious morn,
In wonder the herald Of salvation,
While Time, with heetine wing, shall circle round
henT IN nTr 70 note of Iny0 n
Gods trumpet shall at last with lofty sound
Proclaim majesticaly the doom of earth.