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Thy Hand flew Python; and the Dame who loft
Her num'rous Off-spring for a fatal Boast.
In Phlegias' Doom thy just Revenge appears,
Condemn'd to Furies and Eternal Fears;
He views his Food, wou'd tafte, yet dares not try;
But dreads the mouldring Rock that trembles from
[on high.

Propitious hear our Pray'r, O Pow'r Divine!
And on thy Hospitable Argos fhine.
Whether the Style of Titan please thee more,
Whose Purple Rays th' Achæmenes adore;
Or great Ofyris, who firft taught the Swain
In Pharian Fields to fow the Golden Grain;
Or Mitra, to whofe Beams the Perfian bows,
in hollow Rocks his awful Vows,
Mitra, whofe Head the Blaze of Light adorns,

And pays

Who grafps the ftrugling Heifer's Lunar Horns.

The End of the first Book.

FOUR SONGS

Written in 1683,

In order to be Sung as Chorus's between the Acts of a Play of Shakefpear that was altered.

Firft SONG after the End of the first Act.

Chorus of Free Citizens of Rome.

Hither is Ancient Virtue gone?

WHi

What is become of Justice now?

That Valour, which so bright has fhone,
And with the Wings of Conquest flown,

Must to a haughty Master bow:

*Who

Who with our Toil, our Blood, and all we have be

[fide,

Gorges his ill-got Power, his Humour or his Pride.

He frankly does his Life expose:

So will a Lyon or a Bear.

What Comfort can that be to those,

Who more his vain Ambition fear?

How stupid Wretches we appear;

[roam;

Who round the World, for Wealth, and Empire, And never, never think, what Slaves we are at [Home?

Did Men, for this, together Join,

Quitting the free wild Life of Nature? What Beast but Man did e'er Combiné

For fetting up his Fellow-Creature,

And of two Mischiefs chufe the Greater?

[Men,

Oh, rather than be Slaves to falfe and worthless [and Caves agen.

Give us our Wildnefs, and our Woods, our Huts,

There

There fecure from Lawless Sway,

Out of Pride, or Envy's way; Living up to Nature's Rules

Not deprav'd by Knaves and Fools,

[Sheep; Happily we all might live, and Harmless as our Then at length as calmly dye, as Infants fall asleep.

Second SONG after the fecond АСТ.

L

The Genius of Rome.

O, to prevent this awful Empire's Doom,

From Bright unknown Abodes of Blifs I The Mighty Genius of Majestick Rome.

[come,

Her * Fate approaches! yet, I will ingage
Some few, the Master Souls of all this Age,
To do an Act of juft Heroic Rage.

*The Fall of the Common-wealth, when it was chang'd into Tyranny.

'Tis hard fo Brave a Man fhould fall fo low; But worse, to let fo Great a People bow To one themselves have rais'd, who fcorns them

[now.

Yet, oh, I grieve that Brutus fhould be stain❜d, Whose Life, excepting this one A&t, remain'd So Pure, that future Times will think it feign'd.

But only He can make the Reft combine;
The very Life and Soul of their Design :
The Center, where thofe Mighty Spirits join.

Unthinking Men no fort of Scruples make;
And some are Bad, only for Mischief's fake;
But ev❜n the Best are Guilty by Mistake.

Thus, while they all for Publick Good intend To bring a Tyrant to untimely End,

The over-zealous Brutus Stabs his Friend.

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