THE POWER OF MUSIC by SARAH JOSEPHA BUELL HALE

WHEN Orpheus struck his burning lyre,
Mute Nature caught creative fire,
Rough stones obey'd the swelling sound,
In mystic measure moved around,
Till, polish'd by the harmony,
The finish'd structure, grand and free,
Rose like the star that heralds day,
To show Man's Mind its work and way!

The sword may sever slavery's chain,
The strong arm crush the tyrant's reign,
As lightning from the lurid sky
Shatters and scathes the Temple high; --
But 't is the sweet-voiced Spring that calls
The ivy o'er the broken walls,
And gently swaying in the blasts,
The fragile plant the Pile outlasts.

And thus the power of Music's breath
Re-clothes the wastes of Time and Death.
The "blind old man" begins his strain,
And Greece is "living Greece" again!
The Songs that flow'd on Zion's Hill
Are chanted in God's Temple still,
And to the eye of faith unfold
The glories of His House of old!

Each Prophet-Bard of ancient days
Still breathes for us his lofty lays;
The words that bear a mission high,
If Music-hallow'd, never die; --
And thus Religion, Law and Art,
Sow their choice seeds in every heart;
From age to age the Song flows on,
And blends fresh life with glories gone

A mystery this -- but who can see
The soft south wind that sways the tree,
And warms its vital flood to flow,
And wakes its folded buds to blow? --
Even thus the Power of Music, felt,
The soul is sway'd, the heart will melt,
Till Love and Hope so bless the Hours,
Life's dial-plate is mark'd by flowers.

And every Temple Art has rear'd
Some truth has taught, some error clear'd;
But only Music's voice leads on,
When Time is o'er and Heaven is won;
The Angel-Art to mortals taught --
The golden chord of human thought,
When pure, and tuned by Faith and Love,
Link'd with the golden harps above!

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