On Hearing Miss C. Hearn, at the Age of Ten, Play upon the Piano Forte, and Sing
By music's pow'r, sweet Amphion model'd rocks,
And by it, Orpheus led the bleating flocks;
One rais'd a city by his sounding lyre;
The other quell'd the raging lion's ire.
Here sounds more charming strike the ravish'd ear,
That stop e'en Eacchus in his wild career.
Hail! beauteous child, which shall we most admire,
Thy voice harmonious, or thy tuneful lyre?
If at this age you thus insnare the heart,
What will thy charms! when nature plays her part?
And by it, Orpheus led the bleating flocks;
One rais'd a city by his sounding lyre;
The other quell'd the raging lion's ire.
Here sounds more charming strike the ravish'd ear,
That stop e'en Eacchus in his wild career.
Hail! beauteous child, which shall we most admire,
Thy voice harmonious, or thy tuneful lyre?
If at this age you thus insnare the heart,
What will thy charms! when nature plays her part?
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