Tom's Apology

Oh! tempt me not with meaner joys,
Nor frown, if I decline
The sports so lov'd by other Boys—
The World of Sound is mine.

I care not for the busy crowd
Where noisy mirth prevails,
Where peals of laughter, long and loud,
Swell Pleasure's glittering sails.

The idle jest, the vacant mind,
Let others freely share,
In Music's spells I still can find
Delights more rich and rare.

Oh! let me yet each note prolong,
And treasure every tone
That haunts the magic realms of Song
And make them all my own.

Just as the birds that Heavenward soar
The troubled earth above
From brighter regions catch and pour
The simple strains they love.

Oh! tempt me not with meaner joys,
Nor frown, if I decline
The sports so lov'd by other Boys—
The World of Sound is mine.

I care not for the busy crowd
Where noisy mirth prevails,
Where peals of laughter, long and loud,
Swell Pleasure's glittering sails.

The idle jest, the vacant mind,
Let others freely share,
In Music's spells I still can find
Delights more rich and rare.

Oh! let me yet each note prolong,
And treasure every tone
That haunts the magic realms of Song
And make them all my own.

Just as the birds that Heavenward soar
The troubled earth above
From brighter regions catch and pour
The simple strains they love.
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