Ode on the Peace, An - Part 25

And poesy! thy deep-ton'd shell
The heart shall sooth, the spirit fire,
And all the passions sink, or swell,
In true accordance to the lyre.
Oh! ever wake its heav'nly sound,
Oh! call thy lovely visions round;
Strew the soft path of peace with fancy's flowers,
With raptures bless the soul that feels thy powers.
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