VI.

But fair Cecilia to a pitch divine

Improv❜d her artful lays :

When to the organ fhe her voice did join,
In the Almighty's praife;

Then choirs of liftening angels ftood around,
Admir'd her art, and bleft the heavenly found.
Her praise alone no tongue can reach,
But in the ftrains herfelf did teach:
Then let the voice and lyre combine,
And in a tuneful concert join;
For mufic's her reward and care,
Above th' enjoys it, and protects it here,

GRAND CHORUS.

Then kindly treat this happy day,
And grateful honours to Cecilia pay:

To her thefe lov'd harmonious rites belong, To her that tunes our strings, and still infpires our fong.

THE FORCE OF JEALOUSY. To a Lady asking if her Sex was as fenfible of that Paffion as Man.

An Allufion to

"O! quam cruentus Feminas ftimulat Dolor!" SENECA, Hercules Octæus.

WHAT

THAT raging thoughts tranfport the woman's breaft,
That is with love and jealoufy poffeft!

More with revenge, than foft defires fhe burns,
Whofe flighted paffion meets no kind returns;

That courts the youth with long-neglected charms,
And finds her rival happy in his arms!
Dread Scylla's rocks 'tis fafer to engage,
And trust a storm, than her deftructive rage:
Not waves, contending with a boisterous wind,
Threaten fo loud, as her tempeftuous mind :
For feas grow calm, and raging storms abate,
But most implacable 's a woman's hate :
Tigers and favages lefs wild appear,

Than that fond wretch abandon'd to despair.
Such were the transports Dejanira felt,

Stung with a rival's charms, and husband's guilt:
With fuch defpair fhe view'd the captive maid,
Whofe fatal love her Hercules betray'd;

Th' unchafte Iöle, but divinely fair!
In love triumphant, though a flave in war;
By nature lewd, and form'd for soft delight,
Gay as the spring, and fair as beams of light;
Whose blooming youth would wildeft rage difarm,
And every eye, but a fierce rival's, charm.

Fix'd with her grief the royal matron stood,
When the fair captive in his arms she view'd :
With what regret her beauties she survey'd,
And curft the power of the too lovely maid,
That reap'd the joys of her abandon'd bed!
Her furious looks with wild diforder glow,
Looks that her envy and resentment show!
To blaft that fair detefted form the tries,
And lightning darts from her distorted eyes.

Then o'er the palace of falfe Hercules,
With clamour and impetuous rage the flies;

}

Late

Late a dear witnefs of their mutual flame,
But now th' unhappy object of her shame;
Whose conscious roof can yield her no relief,
But with polluted joys upbraids her grief.

Nor can the spacious court contain her now;
It grows a fcene too narrow for her woe.
Loose and undreft all day fhe ftrays alone,
Does her abode and lov❜d companions fhun.
In woods complains, and fighs in every grove,
The mournful tale of her forfaken love.

Her thoughts to all th' extremes of frenzy fly,
Vary, but cannot eafe her mifery:

Whilft in her looks the lively forms appear,
Of envy, fondnefs, fury, and defpair.

Her rage no conftant face of forrow wears,
Oft fcornful fmiles fucceed loud fighs and tears
Oft o'er her face the rifing blushes fpread,
Her glowing eye-balls turn with fury red:
Then pale and wan her alter'd looks appear,
Paler than guilt, and drooping with despair.
A tide of paffions ebb and flow within,
And oft the fhifts the melancholy fcene:
Does all th' excess of woman's fury show,
And yields a large variety of woe.

Now calm as infants at the mother's breast,
Her grief in fofteft murmurs is exprest :
She speaks the tendereft things that pity move,
Kind are her looks, and languishing with love.
Then loud as ftorms, and raging as the wind,
She gives a loofe to her diftemper'd mind :

With fhricks and groans fhe fills the air around,
And makes the palace her loud griefs refound.
Wild with her wrongs, fhe like a fury strays,
A fury, more than wife of Hercules:

Her motion, looks, and voice, proclaim her woes; While fighs, and broken words, her wilder thoughts difclofe.

TO HIS PERJURED MISTRESS.

IT

"Nox erat, & cœlo fulgebat luna fereno," &c.

was one evening, when the rifing moon
Amidft her train of stars diftinctly shone;
Serene and calm was the inviting night,
And heaven appear'd in all its luftre bright;
When you, Neæra, you, my perjur'd fair,
Did, to abuse the gods and me, prepare.

'Twas then you swore---remember, faithlefs maid,.. With what endearing arts you then betray'd: Remember all the tender things that part,

When round my neck your willing arms were cast.
The circling ivys, when the oaks they join,
Seem loofe, and coy, to thofe fond arms of thine.
Believe, you cry'd, this folemn vow believe,
The nobleft pledge that Love and I can give ;
Or, if there's ought more facred here below,
Let that confirm my oath to heaven and you.
If e'er my breaft a guilty flame receives,
Or covets joys but what thy prefence gives;

May

May every injur'd power affert thy caufe,
And Love avenge his violated laws :
While cruel beafts of prey infeft the plain,

And tempefts rage upon the faithless main;
While fighs and tears fhall listening virgins move;
So long, ye powers, will fond Nexra love.

Ah, faithless charmer, lovely perjur'd maid!
Are thus my vows and generous flame repaid?
Repeated flights I have too tamely bore,
Still doated on, and ftill been wrong'd the more.
Why do I liften to that Syren's voice,

Love ev'n thy crimes, and fly to guilty joys?
Thy fatal eyes my best resolves betray,
My fury melts in foft defires away:

Each look, each glance, for all thy crimes atone,
Elude my rage, and I'm again undone.

But if my injur'd soul dares yet be brave,
Unless I'm fond of flame, confirm'd a flave,
I will be deaf to that enchanting tongue,
Nor on thy beauties gaze away my wrong.
At length I'll loath each prostituted grace,
Nor court the leavings of a cloy'd embrace ;
But fhew, with manly rage, my foul's above
The cold returns of thy exhausted love.
Then thou fhalt juftly mourn at my disdain,
Find all thy arts and all thy charms in vain :
Shalt mourn, whilft I, with nobler flames, purfue
Some nymph as fair, though not unjust, as you;
Whose wit and beauty fhall like thine excel,
But far furpafs in truth, and loving well,

But