Thy Hand flew Python; and the Dame who loft Propitious hear our Pray'r, O Pow'r Divine! 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, 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 *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; Unthinking Men no fort of Scruples make; Thus, while they all for Publick Good intend To bring a Tyrant to untimely End, The over-zealous Brutus Stabs his Friend. |