With down-caft looks the joy lefs victor fate, The various turns of chance below; CHORUS. Revolving in his alter'd foul The various turns of chance below; V. The mighty master smil'd, to fee Never ending, ftill beginning, If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think it worth enjoying. Lovely Thais fits befide thee, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause; So Love was crown'd, but Mufic won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Who caus'd his care, And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and figh'd again : At length, with love and wine at once opprefs'd, The vanquish'd victor funk upon her breast. CHORUS. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gaz'd on the fair Who caus'd his care, And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and figh'd again : At length, with love and wine at once opprefs'd, The vanquish'd victor funk upon her breast. VI. Now ftrike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder ftrain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark! hark! the horrid found Has rais'd up his head, As awak'd from the dead, And, amaz'd, he ftares around. Revenge, Revenge, Timotheus cries, See the furies arife: See the fnakes that they rear, How they hifs in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes Behold a ghaftly band, Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were flain, And unbury'd remain Inglorious on the plain. Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they tofs their torches on high, And glitt'ring temples of their hoftile gods! The princes applaud, with a furious joy; And the king feiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to deftroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. CHORUS. And the king feiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. VII. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute; Timotheus, to his breathing flute And founding lyre, Cou'd fwell the foul to rage, or kindle soft defire. Inventrefs of the vocal frame; The fweet enthusiast, from her facred ftore, And added length to folemn founds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Or both divide the crown; GRAND CHORUS. At laft divine Cecilia came, Inventrefs of the vocal frame; The fweet enthufiaft, from her facred ftore, And added length to folemn founds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Or both divide the crown; ODE ODE FOR MUSIC Ο Ν ST. CECILIA's DAY. This ode has by many been thought equal to the former. As it is a repetition of Dryden's manner, it is fo far inferior to him. The whole hint of Orpheus, with many of the lines, have been taken from an obfcure Ode upon Mufic, published in Tate's Mifcellanies. I. DESCEND, ye Nine! defcend and fing; The breathing inftruments infpire; Wake into voice each filent ftring, And fweep the founding lyre! Let the warbling lute complain: The fhrill echoes rebound: While, in more lengthen'd notes, and flow, Now louder, and yet louder rife, And fill with spreading founds the skies; |