Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing read more

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on't.

When I but hear her sing, I fare
Like one that raises, holds his ear
To some read more

When I but hear her sing, I fare
Like one that raises, holds his ear
To some bright star in the supremest Round;
Through which, besides the light that's seen
There may be heard, from Heaven within,
The rests of Anthems, that the Angels sound.

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain.
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again;
The moving read more

But would you sing, and rival Orpheus' strain.
The wond'ring forests soon should dance again;
The moving mountains hear the powerful call.
And headlong streams hand listening in their fall!

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.

Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.

I see you have a singing face--a heavy, dull, sonata face.

I see you have a singing face--a heavy, dull, sonata face.

Or did the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears read more

Or did the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always read more

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always keep us so.

That which is not worth speaking they sing.
[Fr., Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on read more

That which is not worth speaking they sing.
[Fr., Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on le chante.]

You know you haven't got a singing face.

You know you haven't got a singing face.