18
Sure, music dwells within the soul, that fears To wound, with rugged phrase, melodious ears; Nor in rough dialects, of northern clime, Leaves through the lay one harsh, or ill match'd rhyme.Oft, fond of change, the lines with fitful chase, As in brisk dance, their varying figures trace.
edition of that work must afford great encouragement to all, whose chief or sole reliance is on versification.
|
Shep. Wand. Ws. Wife. Wand. Ws. Wife.
|
Man of suff'ring, such a tale Ha! my daughter's cheek grows pale! Help!—Oh, help!—my daughter dies! Calm thy transports, O, my wife! Oh, my joy! my hope! my life! Page 47.
|
