The scent of a perfume?
Scent, like flowers after dark.
The scent of passion.
How strange the way scent lingers in the mind.
How strange the way scent
changes on warm skin.
Music, oh, how faint, how weak,
Language fades before thy spell!
Why should Feeling ever speak,
When thou canst breathe her soul so well?
Friendship's balmy words may feign,
Love's are even more false than they;
Oh! 'tis only music's strain
Can sweetly soothe, and not betray.
"On Music, quoted from 'Thomas Moore' "