THE

EPITAPH.

H

ERE refts his head upon the lap of Earth

A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown. Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own.

Large was his bounty, and his foul fincere,
Heav'n did a recompence as largely send :

He

gave to Mis'ry all he had, a tear,

He gain'd from Heav'n, 'twas all he wish'd, a Friend.

No farther feek his merits to disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bofom of his Father and his God.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST;

OR THE

POWER OF MUSIC.

As recited by Mr. SHERIDAN, at Freemasons-Hall; and esteemed the most fublime and harmonious Piece of Poetic Compofition that any Language can boast of.

'T

WAS at the royal Feaft, for Perfia won,
By Philip's warlike fon :

Aloft, in awful state,

The god-like hero fate

On his imperial throne :

His valiant peers were plac'd around;
Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:

So fhou'd defert in arms be crown'd.
The lovely Thais by his fide,

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

Timotheus plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes afcend the sky;

And heav'nly joys inspire.

The fong 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 fpires he rode,

When he to fair Olympia press'd,

And while he fought her fnowy breast:

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 sound,
A prefent Deity! they fhout around.

A prefent Deity! the vaulted roofs rebound.

With ravifh'd ears

The monarch hears;

Affumes the god,

Affects to nod:

And feems to shake the spheres.

The

The praise of Bacchus, then, the fweet musician fung Of Bacchus, ever fair, and ever young;

The jolly god in triumph comes;

Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;
Flush'd with a purple grace,

He fhews his honest face;

Now give the hautboys breath; he comes! he comes!

Bacchus, ever fair, and young,
Drinking joys did first ordain;

1

Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure,

Drinking is the foldier's pleasure :

Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure ;

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Sooth'd with the found, the King grew vain ;

Fought all his battles o'er again;

And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he flew the flain:

The master saw the madness rife,

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 chofe a mournful muse,

Soft pity to infufe.

N

He

He fung Darius great and good,

By too fevere a fate,

Fall'n from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood.

Deferted at his utmost need,
By thofe his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth expofed he lies.
Without a friend to close his eyes.

With downcaft looks the joyless victor fate,
Revolving in his alter'd foul,

The various turns of chance below,

And, now and then, a figh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

Behold Darius great and good,
Fallen, welt'ring in his blood;
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,
Without a friend to close his eyes.

The mighty master smil'd to fee
That love was in the next degree
'Twas but a kindred found to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he footh'd his foul to pleasures.

War,