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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530162" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On The Death Of Mr. Viner</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is Viner Dead? and shall each Muse become<br>Silent as Death, and as his Musick Dumb?<br>Shall he depart without a poet's Praise,<br>Who oft to Harmony has tun'd their Lays?<br>Shall he, who knew the Elegance of Sound,<br>Find no one voice to sing him to the Ground?<br>musick and poetry are Sister-Arts,<br>Shew a like Genius, and consenting Hearts:<br>My Soul with his is secretly ally'd,<br>And I am forc'd to speak, since viner dy'd.<br>Oh that my Muse, as once his Notes, could swell!<br>That I might all his Praises fully tell;<br>That I might say with how much skill he play'd,<br>How nimbly four extended Strings survey'd;<br>How Bow and Fingers, with a noble Strife,<br>Did raise the vocal fiddle into Life;<br>How various Sounds, in various Order rang'd,<br>By unobserv'd Degrees minutely chang'd;<br>Thro' a vast Space could in Divisions run,<br>Be all distinct, yet all agree in One:<br>And how the fleeter Notes could swiftly pass,<br>And skip alternately from Place to Place;<br>The Strings could with a sudden Impulse bound,<br>Speak every Touch, and tremble into Sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The liquid Harmony, a tuneful Tide,<br>Now seem'd to rage, anon wou'd gently glide;<br>By Turns would ebb and flow, would rise and fall, <br>Be loudly daring, or be softly small:<br>While all was blended in one common Name,<br>Wave push'd on Wave, and all compos'd a Stream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The diff'rent tones melodiously combin'd,<br>Temper'd with Art, in sweet Confusion join'd;<br>The Soft, the Strong, the Clear, the Shrill, the Deep,<br>Would sometimes soar aloft, and sometimes creep;<br>While ev'ry Soul upon his Motions hung,<br>As tho' it were in tuneful Concert strung.<br>His Touch did strike the Fibres of the Heart,<br>And a like Trembling secretly impart;<br>Where various Passions did by Turns succeed,<br>He made it chearful, and he made it bleed;<br>Could wind it up into a glowing Fire,<br>Then shift the Scene, and teach it to expire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oft have I seen him on a Publick Stage,<br>Alone the gaping Multitude engage;<br>The Eyes and Ears of each Spectator draw,<br>Command their Thoughts, and give their Passions Law;<br>While other Musick in Oblivion drown'd,<br>Seem'd a dead Pulse, or a neglected Sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! he's gone, our Great Apollo's dead,<br>And all that's sweet and tuneful with him fled.<br>hibernia—with one universal Cry,<br>Laments its Loss, and speaks his elegy.<br>Farewel, thou Author of refin'd Delight,<br>Too little known, too soon remov'd from Sight;<br>Those Fingers, which such Pleasure did convey,<br>Must now become to stupid Worms a prey:<br>Thy grateful fiddle with for ever stand<br>A silent Mourner for its master's Hand:<br>Thy art is only to be match'd Above,<br>Where Musick reigns, and in that Musick Love:<br>Where Thou wilt with the happy chorus join,<br>And quickly Thy melodious soul refine<br>To the exalted pitch of Harmony Divine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Parnell">Thomas Parnell</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530162" data-title="On The Death Of Mr. Viner de Thomas Parnell" data-description="Is Viner Dead? and shall each Muse become
Silent as Death, and as his Musick Dumb?
Shall he depart without a poet's Praise,
Who oft to Harmony has tun'd their Lays?
Shall he, who knew the Elegance of Sound,
Find no one voice to sing him to the Gro..."></div>
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