Chloris is gone, and fate provides

To make it Spring, where fhe refides.

II.

Chloris is gone, the cruel fair;
She caft not back a pitying eye:
But left her lover in despair,

To figh, to languish, and to die:
Ah, how can those fair eyes endure
To give the wounds they will not cure!

III.

Great god of love, why haft thou made
A face that can all hearts command,
That all religions can invade,

And change the laws of every land?
Where thou hadft plac'd fuch power before,
Thou shouldft have made her mercy more.

IV.

When Chloris to the temple comes,

Adoring crowds before her fall;
She can restore the dead from tombs,
And every life but mine recal.

I only am by Love design'd
To be the victim for mankind.

XII.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST:
Or, the POWER of MUSIC,

An ODE, in honour of St. CECILIA's Day.

I.

WAS at the royal feast, for Persia won

'Tw

By Philip's warlike son :

Aloft in awful state

The godlike hero fate

On his imperial throne :

His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound. (So should defert in arms be crown'd:

The lovely Thais, by his side,
Sate like a blooming Eastern bride
In flower of youth and beauty's pride.
Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deferves the fair.

CHORUS.

Haypy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deferves the fair.

Timotheus, plac'd on high

II.

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The trembling notes afcend the sky,

And heavenly joys infpire.

The

The fong began from Jove,

Who left his blifsful feats above,

(Such is the power of mighty love.) A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god: Sublime on radiant fpires he rode,

When he to fair Olympia prefs'd:

And while he fought her snowy breast :

Then, round her flender waist he curl'd,

And ftamp'd an image of himself, a fovereign of the world.

The liftening crowd admire the lofty found,
A prefent deity, they fhout around:

A prefent deity the vaulted roofs rebound:
With ravish'd ears

The monarch hears,
Affumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And feems to shake the spheres.

CHORUS.

With ravish'd ears

The monarch bears,

Ajumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And feems to shake the spheres.

III.

The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician fung;

Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young:
The jolly god in triumph comes;
Sound the trumpets; beat the drums;
Flush'd with a purple grace

He fhews his honeft face:

Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.
Bacchus, ever fair and young,
Drinking joys did first ordain
Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure,
Drinking is the foldier's pleasure :
Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

CHORUS.

Bacchus bleffings are a treasure,
Drinking is the foldier's pleasure;
Rich the treafure,

Sweet the pleasure;

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

IV.

Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain ;

Fought all his battles o'er again;

And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he flew the flain.

The master saw 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 Mufe

Soft pity to infuse :

He fung Darius great and good,

By too fevere a fate,

Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high eftate,

And weltring in his blood;

Deferted,

Deferted, at his utmost need,

By those his former bounty fed :
On the bare earth expos'd he lies,

With not a friend to close his eyes.

With down-caft looks the joyless victor fate,
Revolving in his alter'd foul

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

CHORU S.

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.

V.

The mighty master sail'd, to see
That love was in the next degree:
'Twas but a kindred-found to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly fweet, in Lydian meafures,
Soon he footh'd his foul to pleasures.
War, he fung, is toil and trouble ;
Honour but an empty bubble;

Never ending, ftill beginning,
Fighting ftill, and still destroying:
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O think, it worth enjoying:
Lovely Thais fits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.

The