CHORUS. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. II. Timotheus, placed on high With flying fingers touched the lyre: The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, And while he sought her snowy breast; The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound. The monarch hears; Affects to nod, III. The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician sung; He shews his honest face: Now, give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Drinking joys did first ordain; Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. CHORUS. Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. IV. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain: And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise, He sung Darius great and good, And weltering in his blood: The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. CHORUS. Revolving, in his altered soul, The various turns of chance below; V. The mighty master smiled, to see Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures: War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honour, but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Take the good the gods provide thee The many rend the skies with loud applause; Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, Sighed and looked, and sighed again; At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast. CHORUS. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, VI. Now strike the golden lyre again; And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Has raised up his head; As awaked from the dead, See the snakes, that they rear, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, Behold how they toss their torches on high, And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. CHORUS. And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. VII. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, 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 raised a mortal to the skies, |