4
The rarest height of cultured art,
The song of simplest maiden,
The unity of many a part,
The clashing bells joy laden;
The song of simplest maiden,
The unity of many a part,
The clashing bells joy laden;
All are inflections of that voice,
Which spake the world to being,
And bade the universe rejoice,
Its chequered tale foreseeing.
Which spake the world to being,
And bade the universe rejoice,
Its chequered tale foreseeing.
Too true it is that discord mars
The glorious harmonics,
Though for the earth the morning stars
Uttered the clear, true tonics.
The glorious harmonics,
Though for the earth the morning stars
Uttered the clear, true tonics.
True, music hath its counterfeit
That seems akin to madness,
And the rude, jarring notes we meet
Reverberate in sadness.
That seems akin to madness,
And the rude, jarring notes we meet
Reverberate in sadness.
True, we oft find in sweetest lays
Strange minor chords prevailing,
And near the highest burst of praise
Ascends a weary wailing.
Strange minor chords prevailing,
And near the highest burst of praise
Ascends a weary wailing.
Yet music hath again been heard
From out heaven's opened glory,
When angels brought the welcome word
Of earth's redemption-story.
From out heaven's opened glory,
When angels brought the welcome word
Of earth's redemption-story.
And a new song shall yet be taught
To mortals grown immortal;
Already have some notes been caught
Through the celestial portal.
To mortals grown immortal;
Already have some notes been caught
Through the celestial portal.
And music pure shall be attained,
New truth, new bliss revealing;
The grand key-note shall be regained,
Loud hallelujahs pealing.
New truth, new bliss revealing;
The grand key-note shall be regained,
Loud hallelujahs pealing.
