Oh , govern your temper! for music the sweetest
Was never so sweet — nor one half so divine —
As a heart kept in tune, which the moment thou greetest
Breathes harmony dearer than notes can combine!
Never say it is nature , and may not be cured;
One tithe of the time, which to music we yield,
Would render the conquest of temper ensured,
And bring us more music than song e'er revealed.

Oh, govern your temper — for roses the fairest
Were never so fair, nor so rich in perfume,
As the flowers, which e'en thou , chilly Winter, yet sparest —
The flowers of the heart , which unchangingly bloom!
Never think it is nature , — for oh, if it were,
The sooner the spirit of nature is shewn
That the spirit of heaven is higher than her,
The sooner — the longer — will love be our own!