Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/577

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MUSIC
MUSIC
539


1

What woful stuff this madrigal would be
In some starv'd hackney sonnetteer, or me!
But let a Lord once own the happy lines,
How the wit brightens! how the style refines!


2

Light quirks of music, broken and uneven,
Make the soul dance upon a jig to Heav'n.

PopeMoral Essays. Ep. IV. L. 143.


3

By music minds an equal temper know,
Nor swell too high, nor sink too low.


Warriors she fires with animated sounds.
Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds.
 | author = Pope
 | work = Ode on St. Cecilia's Day.


Hark! the numbers soft and clear,
Gently steal upon the ear;
Now louder, and yet louder rise
And fill with spreading sounds the skies.
 | author = Pope
 | work = Ode on St. Cecilia's Day.


In a sadly pleasing strain
Let the warbling lute complain.
 | author = Pope
 | work = Ode on St. Cecilia's Day.


Music's force can tame the furious beast.
Prior.
 | seealso = (See also Bramston)
 | topic = Music
 | page = 539
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>Seated one day at the organ,
I was weary and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.
I do not know what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then,
But I struck one chord of music
Like the sound of a great Amen.
Adelaide A. Procter—Lost Chord. (Asset
to music, 5th line reads, "I know not what
I was playing.