Classic Poem

H ANDEL , whose strains the captive soul command,
Oft as by Sorrow's gloomy weight opprest
I mourn, or furious passions swell my breast,
Or Want, pale fiend, benumbs with icy hand;
Rous'd by thy solemn founds my thoughts expand,
And ev'ry wild emotion sinks to rest;
On balmy clouds I float amid the blest,
And share the raptures of the heav'nly band.
Vain moralists! who deem the pleasing pow'r
But a fond charm to smooth the dang'rous way
Of vice: from her, reclin'd in pensive bow'r,
Oft has the Poet caught his noblest lay:
Her magic bids in many a torpid hour
The waking soul's sublimer passions play.