Thus old Romano bowed to Raphael's fame, O that your brows my laurel had sustained! 40 Thus when the state one Edward did depose, 45 A greater Edward in his room arose. But now, not I, but poetry, is curst, For Tom the second reigns like Tom the first. 50 55 Time, place, and action may with pains be wrought; 60 This is your portion, this your native store: Heav'n, that but once was prodigal before, more. Maintain your post; that's all the fame you need, 65 To Shakespeare gave as much; she could not give him For 't is impossible you should proceed. 70 75 ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC A SONG IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 1697 I 'T was at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: The godlike hero sate His valiant peers were placed around, Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound The lovely Thais; by his side, 5 Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touched the lyre; And heav'nly joys inspire. A dragon's fiery form belied the god; And while he sought her snowy breast; And stamped an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world. The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound: "A present deity!" they shout around: "A present deity!" the vaulted roofs rebound. With ravished ears The monarch hears; Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. CHORUS With ravished ears The monarch hears; Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. III The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, The jolly god in triumph comes: Sound the trumpets, beat the drums! He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath! he comes, he comes! 50 55 бо IV Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain, Fought all his battles o'er again, And thrice he routed all his foes and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise, He sung Darius great and good, And welt'ring in his blood; 70 755 80 By those his former bounty fed, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, 85 Honour but an empty bubble, If the world be worth thy winning, Lovely Thais sits beside thee; Take the good the gods provide thee." The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, 115 CHORUS The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, 120 At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, VI Now strike the golden lyre again, A louder yet, and yet a louder strain: Break his bands of sleep asunder, 125 And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder! |