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the talisman.
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"And they should play so blest a strain
Upon th' enchanted lyre,
That Heaven would claim it back again,
To join its own sweet choir."

Keep, keep, my child, that promise still,
'The wondrous toy' is thine!
E'en now thy spirit tuned it
"The human voice divine!

"Oh! ask of Heaven to teach thy tongue
A true, a reverent tone,—
Full oft attuned to praise and prayer,
And still to vice unknown!

"And rather be it mute for aye,
Than yield its music sweet
To Malice, Scorn, Impurity,
To Slander, or Deceit!

"Degrade not thou the instrument
That God has given to thee,
But, till its latest breath be spent,
Let Conscience keep the key!"