Mysterious keeper of the key <br />That opes the gates of Memory, <br />Oft, in thy wildest, simplest strain, <br />We live o'er years of bliss again! <br />The sun-bright hopes of early youth, <br />Love, in its first deep hour of truth; <br />And dreams of life's delightful morn, <br />Are on thy seraph pinions borne. <br />To the Enthusiast's heart, thy tone <br />Breathes of the lost and lovely one; <br />And calls back moments, brief as dear, <br />When last 'twas wafted on his ear. <br />The Exile listens to the song <br />Once heard his native bowers among; <br />And straightway on his visions rise <br />Home's sunny slopes and cloudless skies. <br />The Warrior, from the strife retired, <br />By Music's stirring strains inspired, <br />Turns him to deeds of glory done, <br />To dangers 'scaped—and laurels won. <br />Enchantress sweet of smiles and tears, <br />Spell of the dreams of vanished years, <br />Mysterious keeper of the key <br />That opes the gates of Memory; <br />'Tis thine to bid sad hearts be gay, <br />Yet chase the smiles of mirth away;— <br />Joy's sparkling eye in tears to steep, <br />Yet bid the mourner cease to weep! <br />To gloom or gladness thou canst suit <br />The chords of thy delicious lute; <br />For every heart thou hast a tone, <br />Can make its pulses all thine own!<br /><br />Alaric Alexander Watts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/music-215/
