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POEMS AND LYRICS.
77
VII.
Lo, the herb of healing, when once the herb is known,
Shines in shady woods bright as new-sprung flame.
Ere the string was tightened we heard the mellow tone,
After he had taught how the sweet sounds came.
Stretched about his feet, labour done, 'twas as you see
Red pomegranates tumble and burst hard rind.
So began contention to give delight and be
Excellent in things aimed to make like kind.
God! of whom music
And song and blood are pure,
The day is never darkened
That had thee here obscure.
