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Shall free-born men, in humble awe,

Submit to fervile fhame;

Who from confent and custom draw
The fame right to be rul'd by law,
Which kings pretend to reign?

The duke shall wield his conq'ring fword,
The chancellor make a fpeech,
The king shall pass his honeft word,
The pawn'd revenue fums afford,

And then, come kifs my breech.

So have I feen a king on chess

His

(His rooks and knights withdrawn, queen and bishops in diftrefs). Shifting about, grow lefs and lefs, With here and there a pawn.

A

SON G

FOR

St. CECILIA's Day, 1687.

FRO

I.

ROM harmony, from heav'nly harmony
This univerfal frame began:

When nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,

And cou'd not heave her head,

The tuneful voice was heard from high,
Arife, ye more than dead.

Then cold, and hot, and moift, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Mufic's power obey.

From harmony, from heav'nly harmony

This univerfal frame began:

From harmony to harmony

Thro all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapafon clofing full in Man.

II.

What paffion cannot Mufic raise and quell!
When Jubal ftruck the corded fhell,
His lift'ning brethren stood around,
And, wond'ring, on their faces fell
To worship that celeftial found.

Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell,

That spoke so sweetly and fo well.

What paffion cannot Music raise and quell?

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And mortal alarms.

The double double double beat

Of the thund'ring drum

Cries, hark! the foes come;

Charge, Charge, 'tis too late to retreat.

IV.

The foft complaining flute

In dying notes discovers

The woes of hopeless lovers,

Whofe dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.

V.

Sharp violins proclaim

Their jealous pangs, and defperation,
Fury, frantic indignation,

Depth of pains, and height of paffion,
For the fair, difdainful, dame.

VI.

But oh! what art can teach,

What human voice can reach,

The facred organ's praise ?

Notes infpiring holy love,

Notes that wing their heav'nly ways

To mend the choirs above.

VII.

Orpheus cou'd lead the favage race;
And trees uprooted left their place,
Sequacious of the lyre:

But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder higher :
When to her organ vocal breath was giv’n,
An angel heard, and straight appear'd
Mistaking earth for heav'n.

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As from the pow'r of facred lays
The fpheres began to move,

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And fung the great Creator's praife
To all the bless'd above;

So when the last and dreadful bour
This crumbling pageant fhall devour,
The trumpet fhall be heard on high,
The dead fhall live, the living die,
And Mufic fhall untune the sky.

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Na bank, befide a willow,

Heav'n her cov'ring, earth her pillow,

Sad Amynta figh'd alone:

From the chearless dawn of morning "Till the dews of night returning, Singing thus the made her moan :

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