To Benjamin Franklin, Occasioned By Hearing Him Play On The Harmonica Poem by Nathaniel Evans

IN grateful wonder lost, long had we viewed
Each generous act thy patriot-soul pursued;
Our Little State resounds thy just applause,
And, pleased, from thee new fame and honor draws:
In thee those various virtues are combined,
That form the true pre-eminence of mind.

What wonder struck us when we did survey
The lambent lightnings innocently play,
And down thy rods beheld the dreaded fire
In a swift flame descend-and then expire;
While the red thunders, roaring loud around,
Burst the black clouds, and harmless smite the ground.

Blest use of art! applied to serve mankind,
The noble province of the sapient mind!
For this the soul's best faculties were given,
To trace great nature's laws from earth to heaven!

Yet not these themes alone thy thoughts command,
Each softer Science owns thy fostering hand;
Aided by thee, Urania's heavenly art,
With finer raptures charms the feeling heart;
Th'Harmonica shall join the sacred choir,
Fresh transports kindle, and new joys inspire-

Hark! the soft warblings, sounding smooth and clear,
Strike with celestial ravishment the ear,
Conveying inward, as they sweetly rool,
A tide of melting music to the soul;
And sure if aught of mortal-moving strain,
Can touch with joy the high angelic train,
'Tis this enchanting instrument of thine,
Which speaks in accents more than half divine!