That of her grace she gave her maid to know We parted thus; I homeward sped my way. And met the merry crew who danc'd about the May. Blush, as thou may'st, my little book for shame, OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. ΑΝ O DE, IN HONOUR OF St. CAECILIA's DAY. M.DC.XCVII. I. WAS at the royal feast, for Perfia won, 'TWAS a By Philip's warlike fon: Aloft in awful ftate The god-like hero fate on his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound. (So fhou'd defert in arms be crown'd:}} The lovely Thais by his side, Sate like a blooming eastern bride In flow'r of youth, and:beauty's pride. Happy happy, happy pair!: None but the brave None but the brave Mone but the Brave deserves the fair. CHORUS. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave None but the brave, None but the brave deferves the fair. Timotheus plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, II. With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The trembling notes afcend the sky, And heav'nly joys inspire. The fong began from Jove; When he to fair Olympia prefs'd: And while he fought her fnowy breast: Then, round her flender wafte he curl'd, [world. And ftamp'd an image of himself, a foveraign of the The liftning crowd admire the lofty found, A prefent deity, they shout around: A present deity the vaulted roofs rebound. With ravish'd ears 11 The monarch hears, Affumes the god, Affects to nod, And feems to shake the spheres. CHORUS. With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, Affumes the god, And seems to shake the spheres. III. The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician fung; Sound the trumpets; beat the drums; He fhews his honest face, Now gives the bantboys breath; he comes, he comes. Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. CHORU S. Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure; Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. IV. Sooth'd with the found the king grew vain; And thrice he rooted all his foes; and thrice he flew His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; He fung Darius great and good, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate And weltring in his blood: Deferted at his utmost need, By thofe his former bounty fed: With down-caft looks the joyless victor sat, The various turns of chance below; CHORUS.. Revolving in his alter'd foul The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a figh he stole; And tears began to flow. |