Shall free-born men, in humble awe,
Submit to servile shame;

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

The duke shall wield his conq'ring sword,
The chancellor make a fpeech,
The king shall pass his honest word,
The pawn'd revenue sums afford,

And then, come kiss my breech. So have I seen a king on chess (His rooks and knights withdrawn,

His queen and bishops in distress)
Shifting about, grow less and less,
With here and there a pawn.

FR

I.

ROM harmony, from heav'nly harmony
This universal 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 moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,

And Music's power obey.
From harmony, from heav'nly harmony
This universal frame began:
From harmony to harmony

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

II.

What passion cannot Music raise and quell!
When Jubal struck the corded shell,

His lift'ning brethren stood around,
And, wond'ring, on their faces fell
To worship that celestial found.

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

That spoke so sweetly and so well.

What paffion cannot Music raise and quell ?

III.

The trumpet's loud clangor
Excites us to arms,

With shrill notes of anger
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,

Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.

.

V.

Sharp violins proclaim

Their jealous pangs, and desperation,

Fury, frantic indignation,

Depth of pains, and height of paffion,

For the fair, disdainful, dame.

VI.

But oh! what art can teach,

What human voice can reach,

The facred organ's praise ?

Notes inspiring holy love,

Notes that wing their heav'nly ways

To mend the choirs above.

VII.

Orpheus cou'd lead the savage 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.

Grand CHORUS.

As from the pow'r of facred lays

The spheres began to move,

And fung the great Creator's praise
To all the bless'd above,

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

THE

TEARS of AMYNTA,

FOR THE

DEATH of DΑΜΟΝ.

SONG.

I.

N a bank, beside a willow,

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

Sad Amynta sigh'd alone:

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