Imatges de pÓgina

No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.
Now under hanging mountains,
Beside the falls of fountains,
Or where Hebrus wanders,
Rolling in meanders,
All alone,

Unheard, unknown,
He makes his moan;
And calls her ghost,
For ever, ever, ever lost!

Now with furies surrounded
Despairing, confounded,
He trembles, he glows,
Amidst Rodope's snows:

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See, wild, as the winds, o'er the desert he flies; Hark, Hamus resounds with the Bacchanal's


Ah see, he dies!

Yet even in death Eurydice he sung,

Eurydice still trembled on his tongue,

Eurydice the woods,

Eurydice the floods,

Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung,


Music the fiercest grief can charm
And fate's severest rage disarm:

Music can soften pain to ease,

And make despair and madness please:
Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the bliss above.
This the divine Cecilia found,

And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound.
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire,
Th' immortal pow'rs incline their ear:
Borne on the swelling notes our souls aspire,
While solemn airs improve the sacred fire;
And Angels lean from heav'n to hear.
Of Orpheus now no more let poets tell,
To bright Cecilia greater power is giv'n;
His numbers rais'd a shade from hell,
Her's lift the soul to heav'n..



Alexander's Feast.


"Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won,

By Philip's warlike son:
Aloft in awful state
The god-like hero sate

On his imperial throne;

His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound: So should desert in arms be crown'd.

The lovely Thais by his side

Sate, like a blooming eastern bride,
In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride,
Happy, happy, happy pair;
None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserve the fair.


Timotheus, plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

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

The song began from Jove;

Who left his blissful seats above,
Such is the pow'r of mighty love!
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the God:
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,

When he to fair Olympia press'd;

And while he sought her snowy breast,
Around her slender waist he curl'd,

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

The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound;
A present deity they shout around,

A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound ::
With ravish'd ears,


The monarch hears,
Assumes the God,

Affects the nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.


The praise of BACCHUS then, the sweet musician


Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young:
The jolly god in triumh comes:
Sound the trumpets beat the drums:
Flush'd with a purple grace

He shews his honest face.

Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes!
Bacchus ever fair and young,
Drinking joys did first ordain :
Bacchus' blessing are a treasure,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure:
Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure;

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

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

And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain.

The master saw the madness rise; 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 chose a mournful muse

Soft pity to infuse:

He sung DARIUS great and good,
By too severe a fate,

Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n,
Fall'n from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood:
Deserted at his utmost need 9
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcast look the joyless victor sate,

Revolving in his alter'd soul

The various turns of fate below;
And now and then a sigh he stole;
And tears began to flow.


The mighty master smil'd to see
That Love was in the next degree;
'Twas but a kindred sound to move;
For pity melts the inind to love.
Softly sweet in Lydian measures,
Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures:
War he sung is toil and trouble;
Honour but an empty bubble:
Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying:
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O, think it worth enjoying!
Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.—
The many rend the skies with loud applause;
So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause.
The prince unable to conceal his pain,

Gaz'd on the fair

Who caus'd his


And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again; At length, with Love and Wine at once oppress'd, The vainquish'd victor sunk upon her breast.


Now strike the golden lyre again,

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain;
Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him, like a ratling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark, the horrid sound

Has rais'd up his head,

As awak'd from the dead,

And amaz'd, he stares around.

Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,

See the furies arise,

See the snakes that they rear
How they hiss. in the air "

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And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!
Behold a ghastly band,

Each a torch in his hand,

These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unbury'd remain

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To the valiant crew:

Behold how they toss their torches on high,
How they point to the Persian abodes,
And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods!
The Princes applaud, with a furious joy:
And the King seiz'd a flambeaux, with zeal to
destroy ;

Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.

Thus, long ago,


Ere heaving billows learn'd to blow,
While organs yet were mute;

Timotheus to his breathing flute

And sounding lyre,


Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine CECILIA came,

Inventress of the vocal frame;

The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store
Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds,

With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

Or both divide the crown;
He rais'd a mortal to the skies;
She drew an angel down..


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