RELIGION, SCIENCE, AND ART.
51
But I entreat you, ere this fount you leave, Gaze once more in its depths, that you may traceThe mystic charms that in those shadows lie; For shadow, as the light, hath beauties rare;And when your canvas with bright hues you dye, Remember, dark tints too must mingle there.'
"Musicians then stood by the sacred fount, And softest zephyrs touched the waters bright;Light breezes wafted from Ideal Mount, Whose sunny slope lay bathed in purest light.And through the waters went there such a thrill, Like music echoes were the sounds they made;Now low and sweet as flow of mountain-rill, Now like the roar of torrent or cascade.
"While through the golden clouds that o'er them hung, Grand music-peals like mighty thunders rolled,Or like the anthems deep by angels sung When spirit fingers touch the harps of gold.Then Inspiration breathed a holy spell O'er each musician's soul, and sweetly said,'May ye perform your sacred mission well As o'er the wilds of earth's dark land ye tread!'
