ON HIS POETICAL TRANSLATIONS FROM VARIOUS LANGUAGES <br /> <br />Bowring, the music of thy polished strains <br />Through every tongue its equal power sustains. <br />To the rude Russ it gives a softer touch, <br />It melts to mellower sounds the homely Dutch, <br />With bloodless conquest from each land it bears <br />The precious spoil of long-recorded years; <br />And, pleased its holy ardour to diffuse, <br />With thy own spirit sanctifies the Muse. <br />Thus, in some window's deep recesses laid, <br />The soft Æolian harp its power displayed, <br />From the shrill east wind and the stormy north <br />It drew soft airs and gentle breathings forth; <br />Subdued to harmony each passing sound, <br />Waked with unusual notes the echoes round, <br />With happy magic softened, as it past, <br />The hollow whistling of the keenest blast; <br />And each rude gust that swept the changing sky <br />Dissolved to strains of liquid harmony.<br /><br />Anna Laetitia Barbauld<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mr-bowring/
