II. By Music, minds an equal temper know, Or, when the foul is prefs'd with cares, Warriors the fires with animated founds; Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds; Melancholy lifts her head, Morpheus roufes from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, Listening Envy drops her fnakes; Inteftine war no more our Paffions wage, And giddy Factions hear away their rage. III. But when our Country's caufe provokes to Arms, So when the firft bold veffel dar'd the feas, High on the stern the Thracian rais'd his strain, And men grew heroes at the found, 25 30 35 40 45 But IV. But when through all th' infernal bounds, Love, ftrong as Death, the Poets led What founds were heard, O'er all the dreary coasts! Dreadful gleams, Difmal screams, Fires that glow, Shrieks of woe, Sullen moans, Hollow groans, And cries of tortur'd ghosts! 50 55 60 But hark! he strikes the golden lyre; See, fhady forms advance! Thy ftone, O Sifyphus, ftands ftill, And the pale spectres dance t The Furies fink upon their iron beds, 65 By the hero's armed shades, Glittering through the gloomy glades; Wandering in the myrtle grove, Reftore, reftore Eurydice to life: Oh take the husband, or return the wife! He fung, and hell confented To hear the Poet's prayer; O'er death, and o'er hell, A conqueft how hard and how glorious! With Styx nine times round her, Yet mufic and love were victorious. VI. But foon, too foon the lover turns his eyes : 80 85 90 How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move? 95 No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love. Now with Furies furrounded, Defpairing, confounded, He trembles, he glows, Amidst Rhodope's snows: See, wild as the winds, o'er the defert he flies; Ah fee, he dies! Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he fung, Eurydice ftill trembled on his tongue, Eurydice the woods, Eurydice the floods, Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rung. VII. Mufic the fierceft grief can charm, And fate's fevereft rage difarm : And make defpair and madness please: And antedate the blifs above. This the divine Cecilia found, And to her Maker's praise confin'd the found. 110 115 120 125 130 TWO TWO CHORUSE S TO THE TRAGEDY OF BRUTUS. Altered from Shakespeare by the Duke of Buckingham, at whofe defire thefe two Chorufes were compofed, to fupply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckingham-houfe. Y CHORUS OF ATHENIANS. STROPHE I. E fhades, where facred truth is fought; In vain your guiltlefs laurels ftood War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades, Oh heaven-born fifters! fource of art! Who charm the fenfe, or mend the heart To what new clime, what distant sky, 15 STROPHE |