In my youth I learnt the double flageolet, and could play it fairly.
All this (wherein I am but the honest spokesman for many who do not like to confess as much) is introductory in my authorial capacity to this short poem, not long since pencilled in the concert-room and given to Mr.Manns as soon as clearly written.

I insert it here very much to give pleasure to one who so continually ministers to the pleasure of thousands; and I hope some day soon to greet him Sir August, as he well deserves a knighthood.
_A Music Lesson._ "Marvellous orchestra! concert of heaven, Mingling more notes than the musical seven, Harmonious discords of treble and base In strange combinations of guilt and of grace-- O whose is the ear that can hear you aright, And note the dark providence mixt with the light?
Where, where is the eye that is swift to discern This lesson in music the dull ear should learn,-- That all, from the seraphim harping on high Down, down to the lowest, fit chords can supply To the paean of praises in every tone, With thunders and melodies circling the Throne! "We are each a brief note in that wonderful hymn, And to us its Oneness is hazy and dim; We hear the few sounds from the viol we play, But all the full chorus floats far and away: Our poor little pipe of an instant is drown'd In the glorious rush of that ocean of sound; The player hears nothing beyond his own bars, Whilst all that grand symphony reaches the stars: Yet, though our piping seems but little worth It adds to the Anthem Creation pours forth, And, whether we know it or not, we can give Not a note more or less in the life that we live.
"Ah me! we are nothing--or little at best-- But duty with greatness the least can invest: One note on the flute or the trumpet may seem A poor petty work for ambition's fond dream,-- But what if that note be a need-be to blend And quicken the score from beginning to end?
To show forth the mind of the Master, who guides With baton unerring Time's mixture of tides, The good with the evil, the blessing and bane, The Amazon rushing far into the main, Until, from this skill'd combination of notes, Bound earth to the heavens His overture floats!".