XXXVII.

THE POWER OF MUSIC.

Tw

WAS at the royal feast, for Perfią won
By Philip's warlike fon :

Aloft, in awful state,

The god-like hero fate,

On his imperial throne.

His valiant peers were plac'd around,
Their brows, with rofes, and with myrtle, bound:
So fhould defert in arms be crown'd.

The lovely Thais, by his fide,

Sat like a blooming eaftern 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.

Timotheus, plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers, touch'd the lyre.
The trembling notes afcend the fky,
And heav'nly joys infpire.-

The fong began from Jeve;

Who left his blissful feats above,
Such is the pow'r of mighty love!
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god :
Sublime on radiant spheres he rode,

When he to fair Olympia prefs'd,

And ftamp'd an imagine of himself, a sov'reign of the

world.

The

The lift'ning crowd admire the lofty found:

A prefent deity, they shout around;

A prefent deity, the vaulted roofs rebound.

With ravish'd ears,

The monarch hears;
Affumes the god;

Affects to nod

And seems to shake the spheres.

The praise of Bacchus, then, the fweet 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.

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 mafter faw the madness rife ;
His glowing cheeks; his ardent eyes:
And, while he heav'n and earth defy'd,

Chang'd his hand, and check'd his pride.-
He chofe a mournful mufe,

Soft pity to infuse.

He

He fung Darius, great and good,
By too fevere a fate,
Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n,
Fall'n from his high estate,
And welt'ring in his blood:
Deferted at his utmost need,
By thofe his former bounty fed,
On the bare earth expos'd he lies-
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With down-caft look, the jo yless victor fat,
Revolving, in his alter'd foul,

The various turns of fate below:
And, now and then, a figh he stole;
And tears began to flow.

The mighty mafter fmil'd, to fee
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 measures,
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 befide thee;

Take the good the gods provide thee.

The many rend the skies with loud applaufe:
So love was crown'd; but mufic won the caufe.-
The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gaz'd on the fair

Who caus'd his care;

And

And figh'd, and look'd; figh'd, and look'd;
Sigh'd, and look'd; and figh'd again:
At length, with love and wine at once opprefs'd,
The vanquish'd victor-funk upon her breast.

Now, ftrike the golden lyre again.

A louder yet; and yet, a louder ftrain.
Break his bands of fleep asunder

And rouze 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 arife!

See the fnakes that they rear,

How they hifs in their hair,

And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!
Behold a ghaftly band,

Each a torch in his hand!

These are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were flain,
And, unbury'd, remain

Inglorious on the plain.

Give the vengeance due

To the valiant crew.

Behold! how they tofs their torches on high,
How they point to the Perfian abodes,

And glitt'ring temples of their hoftile gods!

The princes applaud, with a furious joy;

And the king feiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroy:
Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey;

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

Thus,

Thus, long ago,

Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow;
While organs yet were mute:

Timotheus. to his breathing flute,

And founding lyre,

Could fwell the foul to rage—or kindle soft desire.
At laft, divine Cecilia came,
Inventrefs of the vocal frame.
The sweet enthufiaft, from her facred ftore,
Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds:

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.