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Thus song could prevail
O'er death, and o'er hell,
A conqueft how hard and how glorious ?
Tho' fate had faft bound her
90 With Styx nine times round her, Yet music and love were victorious,
But soon, too soon the lover turns his
eyes : Again the falls, again the dies, she dies ! How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move?
95 No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.
Now under hanging mountains,
Beside the falls of fountains,
Or where Hebrus wanders,
Rolling in Mæanders,
He makes his moan ;
And calls her ghoft,
For ever, ever, ever loft!
Now with Faries surrounded,
He trembles, he glows,
Amidft Rhodope's snows:
See, wild as the winds, o'er the desert he flies ; 110
Hark! Hæmus resounds with the Bacchanals cries
Ah see, he dies !
Yet ev'n in death. Eurydice he sung,
Eurydice still trembled on his tongue,
Eurydice the woods,
Eurydice the floods,
Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung:
Mafic the fierceft grief can charm,
And fate's severest rage disarm:
Music can soften pain to ease,
And make despair and madness please :
Our joys below it can improve,
And antedate the bliss above.
This the divine Cecilia found,
And to her Maker's praise confin's the found.
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire,
Th’immortal pow’rs incline their ear;
Borne on the swelling notes our souls aspire,
While folemn airs improve the sacred fire ;
And angels lean from heav'n to hear. Of Orpheus now no more let Poets tell, To bright Cecilia greater pow'r is giv'n; His numbers rais'd a shade from hell,
Her's lift the soul to heav'n.
E shades, where sacred truth is fought;
Groves, where immortal Sages taught :
Where heav'nly visions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir’d!
In vain your guiltless laurels stood
Unspotted long with human blood.
War, horrid war, your thoughtless walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Muses shades,
Oh heav'n-born fisters! source of art!
Who charm the sense or mend the heart; JO
Who lead fair Virtue's train along,
Moral truth and mystic Song !
To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forsaken, friendless, thall ye fly?
Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore?
*5 Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?
a Altered from Shakespear by the Duke of Buckingham, at whose desire these two Choruses were composed to supply as many, wanting in his play. They were set many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckingham-house.
When Athens finks by fates unjust,
When wild' Barbarians fpurn her duft;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utnoff shore
Shall cease to bluth with stranger's gore ;
See Arts her favage fons controul,
And Athens rising near the pole!
"Till some new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears thein from the land.
ANTIS TROPHE II.
Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball ?
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate’er Ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
Oh curs d effects of civil hate,
In ev'ry age, in ev'ry ftate!
Still, when the luft of cyrant pow'r fucceeds,
Some Athens perishes, fome Tully bleeds.
CHORUS of YOUTHS and VIRGINS,
H Tyrant Love! halt thou poffeft
The prudent, learn'd and virtuous breast ?
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but foften us to feel thy flame...
Love, foft intruder, enters here,
But entring learns to be fincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
Why, Virtue, dost thou blame desire,
Which Nature has impreft?
Why Nature doft thou soonest fire
The mild and gen'rous breast ?
Love's purer fames the Gods approve ;
The Gods and Brutus bend to love :
Brutus for absent Poicia fighs,
15 And sterner Caffius melts at Junia's eyes.
What is loose love? a transient gust,
Spent in a sudden storm of lust,
A vapour fed from wild desire,
A wand'ring, felf.consuming fire.
But Hymen's kinder flames unite ;
And burn for ever one;
Chafte as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the Sun.
Oh source of ev'ry social tye,
United with, and mutual joy!
What various joys on one attend,
As fon, as father, brother, husband, friend?
Whether his hoary fire he spies,
While thousand grateful thoughts arise ; 30
Or meets his spouse's fonder eye ;
Or views his smiling progeny ;
What tender pallions take their turns,
What home-selt raptures moves.
His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns, 35
With rev'rence, hope, and love.
Hence guilty joys, distastes, surmizes,
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises,
Dangers, doubts, delays, surprizes ;
Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine:
Purest love's unwasting treasure,
Constant faith, fạir hope, long leisure;
Days of ease, and nights of pleasure ;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.