II. Chloris is gone, the cruel fair ; She cast not back a pitying eye: To figh, to languish, and to die : Great god of love, why haft thou made And change the laws of ev'ry land? power before, Thou shouldst have made her mercy more, Where thou hadft plac'd such power IV. When Chloris to the temple comes, Adoring crowds before her fall; She can reftore the dead from tombs, And every life but mine recal. I only am by Love defign'd To be the victim for mankind. ALEXANDER'S FEAST: O R, THE POWER of MUSIC, A N In Honor of St. CECILIA's Day. 'Tw 1. WAS at the royal feaft, for Perfia won Aloft in awful state The godlike hero fate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound. (So fhould 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 pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. CHORU S. 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 heavenly joys infpire. The fong began from Jove, Who left his blifsful feats above, When he to fair Olympia prefs'd: And while he fought her fnowy breaft: Then, round her flender waist he curl'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a fov'reign of the world. The lift'ning crowd admire the lofty found, A prefent deity, they fhout around: A present deity the vaulted roofs rebound : With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, Affumes the god, And feems to shake the spheres. CHORU S. With ravish'd ears The monarch bears, Affumes the god, Affects to nod, And feems to shake the fpheres. III. The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician fung; Sound the trumpets; beat the drums; He fhews his honeft face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. CHORUS. Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleafure after pain. IV. Sooth'd with the found the king grew vain; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he flew the flain. The mafter saw the madness rise; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes ; He fung Darius great and good, By too fevere a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, And weltring in his blood ; Deserted, at his utmost need, |