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!

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.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In read more

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In fact, he had no singing education,
An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.

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.

Y'ought to hyeah dat gal a-warblin'
Robins, la'ks an' all dem things
Heish de mouffs an' hides read more

Y'ought to hyeah dat gal a-warblin'
Robins, la'ks an' all dem things
Heish de mouffs an' hides dey faces
When Malindy sings.

O Carril, raise again thy voice! let me hear the song of Selma,
which was sung in my halls read more

O Carril, raise again thy voice! let me hear the song of Selma,
which was sung in my halls of joy, when Fingal, king of shields,
was there, and glowed at the deeds of his fathers.

Then they began to sing
That extremely lovely thing,
"Scherzando! ma non troppo, ppp."

Then they began to sing
That extremely lovely thing,
"Scherzando! ma non troppo, ppp."

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.