Victorian violinist (poem inside card)

Inside: Lines Written on Returning A Lady's Violin Return, sweet violin, and render To thy mistress, echoes tender, Born of songs I've breathed to thee: Whisper forth in plaintive ditty, Thrill her gentle soul with pity, Tune her thoughts to love and me! If she laugh, and cry "Oh folly! This is but Love's melancholy," Then in lighter lyrics sing, Murmuring in melodious measure, How her heart's fairest treasure Bounteous earth to me can bring! In thy crannies I have hidden Songs which need but to be bidden And their notes will wake anew: Songs to soothe her grief and sadness, Summon mirth, woo bliss and gladness, Songs for every season due. Go, wanton in the warm caresses Of maiden hand and cheek and tresses Happy, happy violin! Could I be thou when as thou liest On her breast and softly sighest Greater joy were none to win. —Will Hill, 1895