Hymn to Music

O Art! thou holiest temple of earth,

Upon thy threshold kneeleth the master, with hands silent folded,

The ivy twineth its branches, coileth round thy columns fair,

And drapeth in verdure thy arches above.

Music awakes! The glorious swell of organ tones,

Tubas and trumpets resounding;

Now breathing softly like a gentle flute to stars above;

Now rushing and roaring in tempest, arising like thunder it rolls,

And the heart of man hears the tones so majestic,

And from his eyes unbidden the tears are shed.

Then rising in rapture all hopeful it soars to regions of glory on high.

All this hath music wrought. O Art! O glorious Art!