Happy who in his verse can gently steer From grave to light, from pleasant to severe. - John Dryden

From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
When nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
'Arise, ye more than dead!'
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Music's power obey.
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.

Yet if a Poem have a Genius, it will force its own reception in the World.

Nor is the people's judgment always true:
The most may err as grossly as the few.