To vanish in the chinks that Time has made. - Samuel Rogers

That very law which moulds a tear
And bids it trickle from its source,—
That law preserves the earth a sphere,
And guides the planets in their course.

Fireside happiness, to hours of ease
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

The soul of music slumbers in the shell
Till waked and kindled by the master's spell;
And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour
A thousand melodies unheard before!