WHEN by the brook his strain <br />Cupid is fluting, <br />And on the neighboring plain <br />Mayors disputing, <br />There turns the ear ere long, <br />Loving and tender, <br />Yet to the noise a song <br />Soon must surrender. <br />Loud then the flute-notes glad <br />Sound 'mid war's thunder; <br />If I grow raving mad, <br />Is it a wonder? <br />Flutes sing and trumpets bray, <br />Waxing yet stronger; <br />If, then, my senses stray, <br />Wonder no longer.<br /><br />Johann Wolfgang von Goethe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/minstrel-s-book-discord/
