The underlying idea in this poem is that music has the power to arouse and stir in the human heart all those feelings and passions which it is capable of experiencing. The principal feelings, which human beings experience in the course of their daily lives, are fear, anger, despair, hope, revenge, melancholy cheerfulness, joy, and love. People experience these feelings according to the situations in which they find themselves, or according to the manner in which they are treated by one another and by Fate. But music can arouse any of these emotions even when there is no actual event iit a man’s life to produce that feeling in him. One kind of a musical tune may make a listener angry, another musical tune or song may make him cheerful; another may fill him with joy; and so on. Now. this idea about the power of music over the human heart has been expressed here in a poetic form. Each of the feelings and passions specified above has been personified in this poem. and has been regarded as a subordinate or a pupil of music which has been personified as a heavenly goddess.
Each of these passions comes forward to show its capacity, and to prove its capacity and prowess. At the end, the poet pays a tribute to the heavenly maid, namely music, who had her origin in heaven and had started her career in ancient Greece.
STANZA 1
When Music, heav’nly maid, was young,
While yet in early Greece she sung,
The Passions oft, to hear her shell,
Throng’d around her magic cell,
Exulting, trembling, raging, fainting,
Possest beyond the Muse’s painting;
By turns they felt the glowing mind
Disturb’d, delighted, rais’d, refin’d:
Till once, ’tis said, when all were fir’d,
Fill’d with fury, rapt, inspir’d,
From the supporting myrtles round
They snatch’d her instruments of sound;
And as they oft had heard apart
Sweet lessons of her forceful art,
Each, for madness rul’d the hour,
Would prove his own expressive pow’r.
Music is a heavenly maiden. When she was young, she used to sing in ancient Greece. The passions often used to crowd around her magid abode in order to listen to her playing on a lyre. While listening to her, the passion of Joy used to feel fubilant, the passion of Fear used to tremble; the passion of Anger used to become furious; and the passion of Despair used to feel weak and appeared to be swooning. In fact, these passions used to fall so deeply under the influence of that music that it is beyond the power of poetry to describe their state at that time. Each of ihose passions, while listening to the music of the heavenly maid, used to feel deeply excited or inflamed. Fear used to feel disturbed. Joy used to feel delighted. Hope used to feel inspired. And love used to feel refined. It is said that, on one occasion, when the heavenly maid was playing on her lyre, all the passions felt simultaneously inflamed. They were all filled with an excessive excitement so that they all became forgetful of everything else. They all felt inspired to such an extent that they seized the musical instruments on which the heavenly maid was playing and which lay on the myrtles that supported them. It seemed that all the passions had gone mad for the time being. They had all been often tutored individually by that heavenly maid who had given them sweet lessons in music and had taught them the power of music. Now each of those passions wanted to prove his own power and capacity by giving a demonstration.
STANZA 2
First Fear his hand, its skill to try,
Amid the chords bewilder’d laid,
And back recoil’d, he knew not why,
Ev’n at the sound himself had made.
First Fear, wanting to prove his skill, laid his bewildered hand upon the strings of the lyre. But immediately afterwards, he withdrew, not knowing why he had done so. He had felt frightened by the very sound which he himself had produced from the lyre. (Thus Fear had felt frightened by his own performance).
STANZA 3
Next Anger rush’d; his eyes, on fire,
In lightnings own’d his secret stings;
In one rude clash he struck the lyre,
And swept with hurried hand the strings.
Next, Anger rushed forward, with his eyes burning with fire. He expressed his own secret agóny through his tunes which had the same effect as flashes of lightning have. He struck the strings of the lyre with great force and moved his fingers upon the strings with the utmost swiftness and rapidity. Then he suddenly ceased, unable to go on. (Thus Anger felt overwhelmed by the fury of his own music).
STANZA 4
With woful measures wan Despair
Low sullen sounds his grief beguil’d;
A solemn, strange, and mingled air;
‘Twas sad by fits, by starts ’twas wild.
Pale Despair began to soothe his own grief with a sad tune, producing low sounds expressive of dissatisfaction and resentment. The tune produced by him was sober and strange. This tune had a mixed character. At times it became sad, and at times it became frantic.
STANZA 5
But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair,
What was thy delightful measure;
Still it whisper’d promis’d pleasure,
And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail!
Still would her touch the strain prolong,
And from the rocks, the woods, the vale,
She call’d on Echo still thro’ all the song;
And where her sweetest theme she chose,
A soft responsive voice was heard at ev’ry close,
And Hope enchanted smil’d, and wav’d her golden hair.
But you, O Hope who have such beautiful eyes, what was the delightful tune which you produced? All the time that you played that tune, it seemed to whisper that a certain pleasure awaited the listeners.
Through your tune, you offered a welcome to the lovely happenings which were expected to occur in future. Indeed, the sounds of the musical notes produced by Hope seemed to continue and to fill the rocks, the woods, and the valleys all around. The notes produced by Hope were echoed from all the surrounding regions. And when Hope produced her sweetest tune, a gentle voice was heard at every pause of it. This voice came from the nymph Echo who was no longer a nymph but only a voice which repeated the last sounds of what she heard. On hearing her tune thus echoed, Hope felt delighted. She smiled and, loosening her golden hair, shook it joyfully.
STANZA 6
And longer had she sung,-but with a frown
Revenge impatient rose;
He threw his blood-stain’d sword in thunder down
And with a with’ring look
The war-denouncing trumpet took,
And blew a blast so loud and dread,
Were ne’er prophetic sounds so full of woe.
And ever and anon he beat
The doubling drum with furious heat;
And tho’ sometimes, each dreary pause between,
Dejected Pity, at his side,
Her soul-subduing voice applied,
Yet still he kept his wild unalter’d mien,
While each strain’d ball of sight seem’d bursting from his head.
And Hope would have continued her singing if she had not been interrupted by Revenge who got up with a frown caused by his impatience. He had a sword which was stained with blood, and which he now flung down thunderously, and with a devastating look in his eyes. He picked up a trumpet and blew a tune, most loud and dreadful, prophesying war. Never before had prophetic sounds been so full of the misfortunes to come. And all the time he repeatedly beat the drum which multiplied the sounds, and he did so in great fury and rage. And, although Pity, sitting at his side and looking depressed, spoke in a gentle voice in the brief but dull and lifeless intervals of his musical notes to subdue his rage, yet he continued with his savage behaviour unchanged, and his eyes showed so much indignation that they seemed to be on the brink of bursting forth from his head.
STANZA 7
Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fix’d,
Sad proof of thy distressful state;
Of diff’ring themes the veering song was mix’d,
And now it courted Love, now raving call’d on Hate.
Then you, Jealousy, started playing your notes which did not stick to any single tune but kept changing, thus providing evidence of your sorry plight. The song sung by you, O Jealousy, fluctuated from theme to theme. Your song was a mixed one, sometimes wooing a beloved, and sometimes furiously invoking hatred.
STANZA 8
With eyes uprais’d, as one inspir’d,
Pale Melancholy sate retir’d,
And from her wild sequester’d seat,
In notes by distance made more sweet,
Pour’d thro’ the mellow horn her pensive soul:
And, dashing soft from locks around,
Bubbling runnels join’d the sound;
Thro’ glades and glooms the mingled measure stole;
Or o’er some haunted stream with fond delay
Round an holy calm diffusing,
Love of peace and lonely musing,
In hollow murmurs died away.
Melancholy. looking pale, had been sitting aloof, with eyes raised upwards, like one feeling greatly excited and thrilled. Now she began to sing, and she poured her unhappy heart into her gentle trumpet, playing on it from her wild, insolated seat, and producing notes which sounded all the sweeter because of the distance at which she sat. The sounds of the flowing streams came rushing gently from the rocks around, and joined her notes of music. This mixed music crept through both the open spaces and the shady spaces, or hovered over some haunted brook in an affectionate and lingering manner. All these musical sounds spread a holy feeling of calm and a love of peace all over the place, and created an atmosphere suited to lonely meditation. Then these sounds became lower and lower, and ultimately died away. (Thus ended the performance of Malancholy).
STANZA 9
But oh, how alter’d was its sprightlier tone,
When Cheerfulness, a nymph of healthiest hue,
Her bow across her shoulder flung,
Her buskins gemm’d with morning dew,
Blew an inspiring air, that dale and thicket rung,
The hunter’s call to faun and dryad known!
The oak-crown’d sisters, and their chaste-ey’d queen,
Satyrs, and sylvan boys, were seen,
Peeping from forth their alleys green;
Brown Exercise rejoic’d to heal,
And Sport leapt up, and seiz’d his beechen spear.
But greatly changed were the notes of music which now ensued. A much more animated and brisk tune was produced by Cheerfulness who was a nymph of the healthiest possible complexion. She appeared in the guise of a huntress, with a bow flung across her shoulder, and with her high-heeled boots wet with the morning dew. She produced an inspiring tune which resounded through the valleys and the woods. This tune was one with which the rural deities and the spirits of the trees were well acquainted. On hearing this tune, the chaste Queen of hunting (namely Diana), all her sisters whose heads were crowned with the leaves of oak trees, and the various dwellers in the woods, some of them half-human and half-goats, began to peep from their green lanes in the forest, feeling greatly stirred by this summons. They included the spirits inhabiting trees and the country youths. Exercise, which has a brown complexion because of its constant physical exertions, felt extremely happy on hearing this call; and Sport, who loves every occupation demanding a use of physical strength and energy. jumped up and took hold of his spear which was made of the wood of a beech tree.
STANZA 10
Last came Joy’s ecstatic trial.
He, with viny crown advancing,
First to the lively pipe his hand addrest;
But soon he saw the brisk awak’ning viol,
Whose sweet entrancing voice he lov’d the best.
They would have thought, who heard the strain,
They saw in Tempe’s vale her native maids
Amidst the vestal sounding shades,
To some unwearied minstrel dancing,
While, as his flying fingers kiss’d the strings,
Love fram’d with Mirth a gay fantastic round;
Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound,
And he, amidst his frolic play,
As if he would the charming air repay,
Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings.
Last came a rapturous demonstration by Joy who stepped forward, wearing a crown made of the leaves of the climbing plant known as the vine which suggests wine and the intoxication caused by it. He first played upon the pipe which produces animated notes of music. But soon he happened to see the viol (or the violin) which produces brisk tunes that wake up even those who may be asleep. He (Joy) loved the sweet enchanting notes of this particular musical instrument more than any other instrument. Those who heard the notes of this instrument would have imagined that they were seeing before their eyes the damsels who dwelt in the beautiful valley of Tempe. They would have visualized those damsels dancing to the tune being played by some untiring musician in the midst of shady places where a festive atmosphere prevailed. As the rapidly moving fingers of Joy touched the strings of the violin, a merry and fantastic music came forth, representing the union of Love and Mirth.
The hair of Mirth was untied and loose, and so was her waist-band; while Joy, feeling most happy in the midst of his gay notes of the violin, shed from his wet wings fragrance of many kinds, scattering it all around as if he wanted to reward the charming air of the place.
STANZA 11
O Music, sphere-descended maid,
Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom’s aid,
Why, goddess, why, to us denied,
Lay’st thou thy ancient lyre aside?
As in that lov’d Athenian bow’r
You learn’d an all-commanding pow’r,
Thy mimic soul, O nymph endear’d,
Can well recall what then it heard.
Where is thy native simple heart,
Devote to Virtue Fancy, Art?
Arise as in that eider time,
Warm, energic, chaste, sublime!
Thy wonders, in that godlike age,
Fill thy recording sister’s page.-
‘Tis said, and I believe the tale,
Thy humblest reed could more prevail,
Had more of strength, diviner rage,
Than all which charms this laggard age,
Ev’n all at once together found,
Cæcilia’s mingled world of sound.
O bid our vain endeavours cease,
Revive the just designs of Greece,
Return in all thy simple state,
Confirm the tales her sons relate!
a Music, you are a maiden who descended to the earth from the planets above. You are a friend of Pleasure, and a helper of Wisdom. (You provide pleasure to human beings on the earth, and you also help them to grow wiser). But, a goddess, why have you denied your gifts to us in the modern times ? Why have you laid aside your musical instrument, namely the lyre, on which you used to play in ancient times? In the city of Athens (in Greece) you used to play sweet music in the shady retreats and in the private bedrooms, and you were able to acquire a power which could command all Nature. a beloved goddess of Music, you have the capacity to reproduce what you had previously heard. (You can therefore surely now recall and reproduce the kind of music which you used to produce in ancient Greece). Where is your original heart of simplicity which was devoted to the service of virtue, fancy, and art? (Or, where is that original gift of yours by means of which you used to activate and stimulate virtue, imagination, and artistic activity ?) Get up as you used to do in those ancient days. Be as warm, energetic, pure, and lofty as you used to be.
Your sister, History, has recorded all the wonders which you performed in your sphere of activity in that divine period of time. It is said, and I surely believe in the truth of this story, that the notes which you drew even from the humblest musical instrument, namely the pipe, could produce a greater effect, and possessed more of energy and of heavenly frenzy, than all the music which enchants this dull and sluggish time of ours. In those days all the passions could simultaneously be produced in the listeners by music. All those musical effects could be produced (in ancient Greece) which were subsequently produced by Cecilia, the patron saint of music and the inventor of the church organ, a goddess, put a stop to our futile artempts in the sphere of music, and bring back to our time the right and true achievements in this sphere of ancient Greece. Come back to us in all your simple dignity (which belonged to you in ancient Greece), and confirm the stories recorded in the books of history about achievements of the ancient Greek musicians. Confirm those stories by enabling the musicians of the present time to produce similar music.