On MUSIC. Stephen Duck Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T90234 K073280.000 Duck, Stephen, 1705-1756. Poems on several occasions: By Stephen Duck. London printed for the author 1736 pp. 68-71. xl,334,[2]p. ; 4⁰.

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On MUSIC . I. MUSIC the coldest Heart can warm , The hardest melt , the fiercest charm ; Disarm the Savage of his Rage , Dispel our Cares , and Pains assuage ; With Joy it can our Souls inspire , And tune our Tempers to the Lyre ; Our Passions , like the Notes , agree , And stand subdu'd by Harmony . This found the melancholy King , When DAVID tun'd the trembling String : Sweet MUSIC chas'd the sullen Spleen away , And made his clouded Soul serenely gay . II . WHILE MUSIC breathes in Martial Airs , The Coward durst forget his Fears ; Or , if the Notes to Pity sound , Revenge and Envy cease to wound : The Pow'r of MUSIC has been known To raise or tumble Cities down : Thus Theban Turrets , Authors say , Were rais'd by MUSIC's magic Lay ; And ancient Jericho's Heav'n-hated Wall , To sacred MUSIC , ow'd its destin'd Fall . III . NOR Mortals only MUSIC love ; It chears celestial Saints above : Sweet Hallelujahs Angels sing Around their great Ethereal KING ; Ceasless they sound the FATHER's Praise , The FATHER too approves their Lays ; For HE ( as all Things ) MUSIC made , And SERAPHIMS before Him play'd : When over Horeb's Mount He came , Array'd in Majesty and Flame ; After the sounding Trump , sublime , He rode ; The sounding Trump proclaim'd th'approaching GOD . IV . MUSIC had Being , long before The solemn Organ learnt to roar : When MICHAEL , o'er the heav'nly Plain , Advanc'd , to fight the rebel Train ; Loud Trumpets did his Wrath declare , In MUSIC , terrible to hear : And when the Universe was made , On golden Harps the Angels play'd : And when it falls , ( as fall it must ) MUSIC shall penetrate the Dust ; The Trump shall sound with the Archangel's Breath ; And , sweetly dreadful ! wake the Dead from Death .