And fighing tell thy woe?

Can you think that sneaking air

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Fit to move th' unpitying'fair?

She laughs to fee thee trifle fo.
Why, too amorous Hero! why
Doft thou the war forego,
At Celia's feet to lie,

And fighing tell thy woe?

RECITATIVE.

Cleander heard not this advice,

Nor would his languishing refrain.

But while to Celia once he pray'd in vain,
By chance his image in a glafs he spies,

And, blushing at the fight, he grew a man again.
AIR. [With a Trumpet.]

Hark! the trumpet founds to arms!
I come, I come, the warrior cries,
And from fcornful Celia flies,
To court Victoria's charms.
Celia beholds his alter'd brow,
And would regain her lover now.
Hark! the trumpet founds to arms!
I come, I come, the warrior cries,
And from fcornful Celia flies,
To court Victoria's charms.

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AN

See, fee!

The mighty power of Harmony!

Behold how foon its charms can chace

Grief and gloom from every face!
How fwift its raptures fly,

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And thrill through every foul, and brighten every

eye!

II.

Proceed, fweet charmer of the ear!

Proceed; and through the mellow flute,

The moving lyre,

And folitary lute,

Melting airs, foft joys infpire:
Airs for drooping Hope to hear,
Melting as a lover's prayer;
Joys to flatter dull Despair,
And foftly footh the amorous fire.

CHORU S.

Melting airs, foft joys infpire:
Airs for drooping Hope to hear,
Melting as a lover's prayer;

Joys to flatter dull Despair,
And foftly footh the amorous fire.

III.

Now let the sprightly Violin
A louder strain begin;

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And

And now

Let the deep-mouth'd Organ blow,
Swell it high, and fink it low.

Hark-how the Treble and Bafe

In wanton fugues each other chace, And fwift divifions run their airy race! Through all the travers'd fcale they fly, In winding labyrinths of harmony;

By turns they rife and fall, by turns we live and die.

CHORUS.

In winding labyrinths of harmony,

Through all the travers'd scale they fly:

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By turns they rife and fall, by turns we live and die.

IV.

Ye fons of Art, once more renew your strains ;

In loftier verfe, and loftier lays,

Your voices raise

To Mufic's praise !

A nobler fong remains.

Sing how the great Creator-God

On wings of flaming cherubs rode,

To make a world; and round the dark abyss,
Turn'd the golden compaffes,

The compaffes in Fate's high ftorehouse found;
Thus far extend, he faid; be this

O World, thy measur’d bound.

*Milton.

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Mean

Mean while a thoufand harps were play'd on high; Be this thy measur'd bound,

Was echo'd all around:

And now arife, ye Earth and Seas, and Sky!
A thoufand voices made reply,

Arife, ye Earth and Seas, and Sky!

V.

What can Mufic's power control ?
When Nature's fleeping foul
Perceiv'd th' enchanting found,

It wak'd, and fhook off foul deformity;
The mighty melody

Nature's fecret chains unbound;

And Earth arofe, and Seas, and Sky.
Aloft expanded spheres were flung,
With fhining luminaries hung;
A vaft Creation ftood difplay'd,

By Heaven's infpiring Mufic made.

CHORUS.

O wondrous force of Harmony!

VI.

Divineft Art, whofe fame fhall never ceafe!

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Thy honour'd voice proclaim'd the Saviour's birth; When Heaven vouchfaf'd to treat with Earth, Music was herald of the peace :

L

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Thy