ALEXANDER's FEAST;

O R,

THE POWER OF MUSIC.

ANOD E,

In Honour of St. CECILIA's Day.

This ode has been more applauded, perhaps, than it has been felt; however, it is a very fine one, and gives its beauties rather at a third, or fourth, than at a firft, perufal.

I.

WAS at the royal feaft, for Perfia won,

• TW

By Philip's warlike fon :

Aloft, in awful state,

The godlike hero fate

On his imperial throne:

His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with rofes and with myrtles bound.

(So shou'd defert in arms be crown'd :)

The lovely Thais by his fide,

Sate like a blooming eastern bride,

In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deferve the fair.'

CHORUS.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deferves the fair.

II.

Timotheus plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes afcend the sky,
And heav'nly joys inspire.

The fong began from Jove;

Who left his blifsful feats above,

(Such is the pow'r of mighty love.)
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god:
Sublime on radiant fpires he rode,

When he to fair Olympia prefs'd:

And while he fought her fnowy breast:

Then, round her flender waift he curl'd,

And ftamp'd an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world.

The lift'ning crowd admire the lofty found.

A prefent Deity they shout around:

A prefent Deity the vaulted roofs rebound:

With

With ravish'd ears

The monarch hears,
Affumes the god,
Affects to nod,

And feems to fhake the fpheres.

CHORUS.

With ravish'd ears

The monarch hears,

Affumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And feems to fhake the spheres.

III.

The praife of Bacchus then the fweet musician fung;
Of Bacchus, ever fair, and ever young:

The jolly god in triumph comes;
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;
Flush'd with a purple grace,

He fhews his honest face;

Now gives the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes
Bacchus, ever fair and young,

Drinking joys did first ordain :
Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure,
Drinking is the foldier's pleasure ;

Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure;

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

VOL. I.

G

CHORUS.

CHORUS.

Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure;
Drinking is the foldier's pleasure ;

Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleafure;

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

IV.

Sooth'd with the found the king grew vain;
Fought all his battles o'er again;

And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he flew the flain.

The mafler faw the madness rife ;

His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes ;
And, while he Heav'n and earth defy'd,
Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.
He chofe a mournful mufe,

Soft pity to infuse :

He fung Darius, great and good,

By too fevere a fate,

Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,

Fallen from his high estate,

And welt'ring in his blood:

Deferted at his utmost need,

By those his former bounty fed:
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With

With down-caft looks the joyless victor fate,
Revolving in his alter'd foul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a figh he ftole;
And tears began to flow.

Revolving in his alter'd foul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole;

And tears began to flow.

V.

The mighty mafter fmil'd, to fee
That love was in the next degree:
'Twas but a kindred found to move;
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly fweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he footh'd his foul to pleasures.
War, he fung, his toil and trouble;
Honour, but an empty bubble:

Never ending, ftill beginning,
Fighting ftill, and ftill deftroying:

If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think it worth enjoying. Lovely Thai's fits befide thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.

The many rend the skies with loud applaufe;

So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause.