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He trembles, he glows,

Amidst Rhodope's snows: Il See, wild as the winds, o'er the desert he flies; Hark! Hazmus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries

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 fuund,
And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound,
When the full crgan joins the tuneful quire,

Th’immortal pow'ss incline their ear :
Borne on their swelling notes our souls aspire,
While solemn airs improve the sacred fire;

And angels lean from Heay'n 'to hear.
Of Orpheus pow no more let poets tell,
To bright Cecilia greater pow'r is giv'n;
His numbers rais'd a shade from Hell,

Her's lift the soul to Heav!n.

POPB.

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'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;

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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 Thäis by his side
Sat, like a blooming eastern bride,
In ftow'r 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:

Timotheus, plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch'd the lyre
The treinbling notes ascend the sky,

And heav'oly 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 spheres he rode,«

When he to fair Olympia press'd,
And stamp'd an image of himself, a sor'reign of the

world-
The list’ning crowd admire the tofty.sound;

A present deity they shout aroond,
A present deity, the vaulted proofs rebounid:

With ravish'u ears
The inonarch hears,
Assumes the god, -

Affects to nod,
And seems-to'shake the spheres. í.
The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung:

Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young :
The jolly god in triumph comes ;

LO 9511?
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums ;'.
Flush'd with a purple grace

He shows his honest face,
Now give the hauiboys breath; he comes! he comést!

R 3. ja Louis

Bacchus, ever fair and young,
Drinking joys did first ordain:
Bacchus' blessings 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 batiles o'er again ;
And ihrice 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 Ileav'n and Earth dely'd,
Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.
lie chose a mournful muse
Soft pity to infuse :
Ile sung Darius great and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n,
Fall’n from bis high estate,

And welç'ring in his blood:
Deserted at his utmost need
By those his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth expos'd be lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes, y

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 stule, m.;
And tears began to flow.

The mighty master smild to see a zdi :9;.
That love was in the next degree:t in
'Twas but kindred sound to move ;
For pity melts the mind 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 bubblę ;

Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying :

Ifihe world be worth thy winning, Think, O think it worth e ajoying!

Lovely Thäis 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 care,
And sigh'd and look'd, and 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 vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast,

Now strike the golden-lyre again ;
And louder yet, and yet a louder strain.
Break his bands of sleep asunder,
And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder.-

Hark, hark, the horrid sound
Has rais'd up his head;
As.awak'd from the dead;.

And amaz’d, he slares around.
Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,

See the furies arise,
See the snakes that they rear,

How they hiss in the air,
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
Inglorious on the plain;
Give the vengeance due

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 à flambeau, with zeal to destros i

RA

Thäis led the way,

To light him to his prey,
And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.

Thus, long ago,
Ere heaving bellows learn’d to blow,
While organs yet were mute;
Timotheus to his breathing flute

And sounding lyre,
Could swell the souł to rage, or kindle sost desire.

At last divioe Cecilia came,

Inventress of the vocal frame;
The sweet enthusiast, from her saered store,

Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds,
With Nature's mother-wit, and aris unknown before

Let old Timulheus yield the prize,
Or both divide the crown;
He tais'd a mortal to the skies;
She drew an angel dowo.

DRYDEN

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE CURATE..

A FRAGMENT.

O'er the pale embers of a dying fire,

His little lamp fed with but little oil, The Curate sat (for scanty was his hire)

And ruminated sad the morrow's toil.

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"Twas Sunday's eve, meet season to prepare

The stated lectures of the coming tide; No day of res to him, but day of care,

At mapy a church to preach with tedious pide.

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