heart But when Erato brushed her flowerly lute
What strains of sweetness whisphered in the wind!
Soft as at evening when the shepherds flute
To tones of melting love alone resigned,
Breathes through the windings of a silent vale;
Complaining accents tremble on the gale,
Or notes of ecstacy serenely roll.
So when the smiling muse of cupids song
Her melody sighed out the sorrowing soul,
Or o'er her silken chords sweet notes of gladness rung. heart
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