Classic Poem

But Music also is ready for frolicking;
She can descend from her height sublime,
She likes clinking of glasses and rollicking,
Revelling, dancing in rowdy time.

Banjo and zither and songs uproarious,
Twanging of mandolins, guitars,
All good-fellowship fine and glorious
In the tavern or under the stars.

She in the students' haunts hilarious
Leads the chorus in gay refrains,
Bangs the piano with fervor vicarious
And helps to rattle the window-panes.

Winds may be northerly, winds may be southerly,
Music cares not how the winds may blow,
So be the hearts that beat true-brotherly,
So be the eyes with affection aglow.

Hail, Music, Lady of Springs Pierian,
Hail the mistress we all adore
Long as the sun, the bright Hyperion,
Shines in the sky, and forevermore.