text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id "By Music, minds an equal temper know,
  Nor swell too high, nor sink too low.
If in the breast tumultuous joys arise,
Music her soft, assuasive voice applies;
  Or when the soul is press'd with cares,
  Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Warriors she fires with animated sounds;
Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds:
    Melancholy lifts her head,
    Morpheus rouzes from his bed,
    Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes,
    List'ning Envy drops her snakes;
Intestine war no more our Passions wage,
And giddy Factions hear away their rage.

",2009-09-14 19:35:20 UTC,"When music plays, ""Intestine war no more our Passions wage, / And giddy Factions hear away their rage.""",2004-08-24 00:00:00 UTC,"","",,"","•This entry also comes up in C-H for Smart in ""The Works of Horace"" (1767)?",HDIS,10857,4185