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CHORUS.

Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure,

Drinking is the foldier's pleasure;
Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure;

Sweet is pleafure after pain.

IV.

Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again;

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And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he

flew the flain.

The mafter faw the madness rife;

His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;
And, while he heaven and earth defy'd,

Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.

He chofe a mournful muse

Soft pity to infuse :

He fung Darius great and good,

By too fevere a fate,

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Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,

Fallen from his high estate,

And weltring in his blood. Deserted, at his utmost need, By thofe his former bounty fed:

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On the bare earth expos'd he lies,

With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcaft looks the joyless victor fate,

Revolving in his alter'd foul

The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a figh he ftole; And tears began to flow.

CHORUS.

Revolving in his alter'd soul

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The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a figh he ftole ;

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Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he footh'd his foul to pleasures. War, he fung, is toil and trouble;

Honour but an empty bubble;

Never ending, still beginning,

Fighting ftill, and still destroying,

If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think, it worth enjoying:

Lovely Thais fits befide thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.

The many rend the skies with loud applause;

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So Love was crown'd, but Mufic won the cause.

The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gaz'd on the fair

Who caus'd his care,

And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and figh'd again :

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At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, The vanquish'd victor funk upon her breaft. 115

CHORUS.

The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gaz'd on the fair

Who caus'd his care,

And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and figb'd again:

At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd,
The vanquish'd victor funk upon her breaft.

VI.

Now ftrike the golden lyre again:

A louder yet, and yet a louder ftrain.

Break his bands of fleep afunder,

And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark, the horrid found

Has rais'd up his head :

As awak'd from the dead,

And amaz'd, he ftares around.

Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,

See the Furies arise :

See the fnakes that they rear

How they hifs in their hair,

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And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!

Behold a ghaftly band,

Each a torch in his hand!

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Those are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were flain,

And unbury'd remain

Inglorious on the plain: 140 Give the vengeance due

To the valiant crew.

Behold how they tofs their torches on high,
How they point to the Perfian abodes,
And glittering temples of their hoftile gods.
The princes applaud, with a furious joy;
And the king seiz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy;
Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,

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And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. 150

CHORUS.

And the king feix'd a flambeau with zeal to deftroy; Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.

VII.

Thus, long ago,

Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow,

While organs yet were mute,

Timotheus, to his breathing flute,

And founding lyre,

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Could fwell the foul to rage, or kindle fierce defire.

At laft divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the vocal frame;

The fweet enthufiaft, from her facred store,

Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,

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And added length to folemn founds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

Or both divide the crown;

He rais'd a mortal to the skies;

She drew an angel down.

GRAND CHORUS.

At laft, divine Cecilia came,
Inventrefs of the vocal frame;

The fweet enthufiaft, from ber facred ftore,
Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,
And added length to folemn founds,

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With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

Or both divide the crown;

He rais'd a mortal to the skies ;

She drew an angel down.

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