Port Talbot Poems in the Montreal Scribbler

By Adam Hood Burwell



Sure music hath a powerful charm
         To quell the tumults of the breast,
The sting of anguish to disarm,
         And lull the labouring soul to rest.

It soothing strains, in healing streams,


         Pour balm into the wounded heart,
Which, sweetly lost in pleasing dreams,
         Forgets the wound which caused the smart.

The plaintive chord awakens soft
         The dormant feelings of the soul,


And gently bends the stubborn will
         To bow to its divine controul.

It smooths the wrinkled brow of care,
         It bids compassion kindly move,
It breathes enchantment through the air,


         And gilds the winged shafts of love.


Port Talbot, U.C. [Page 26]

* This poem appeared in The Scribbler (Montreal), I, 169-170 (22 November, 1821).

A note was added by the Editor of The Scribbler: “With the freedom of a friendly censor, which I am sure Erieus will allow, he will perceive that two stanzas are suppressed, which I do not think worthy of the rest, especially that where music is described as having a ‘silent sway’.” [back]