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So when the first bold vessel dar'd the seas;
High on the stern the Thracian rais’d his strain,
While Argo saw her kindred trees

4@ Descend from Pelion to the main.

Transported demi-gods stood round, And men grew heroes at the found,

Enflam'd with glory’s charms:
Each chief his sev’nfold shield display'd, 45
And half unsheath'd the shining blade :
And feas, and rocks, and skies rebound
To arms, to arms, to arms!

But when thro' all th' infernal bounds,
Which flaming Phlegeton surrounds,

Love, strong as Death, the Poet led
To the pale nations of the dead,

What sounds were heard,
What scenes appear'd,
O'er all the dreary coasts !

Dreadful gleams,
Dismal screams,
Fires that glow,
Shrieks of woe,
Sullen moans,

60 Hollow groans,

And cries of tortur'd ghosts !
But hark! he strikes the golden lyre;
And see! the tortur’d ghosts respire,

See, shady forms advance!
Thy stone, O Sysiphus, stands still,
Ixion rests upon his wheel,
And the pale fpectres dance!


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The Furies sink upon their iron beds,
And snakes unçurld hang liftning round their heads.

By the streams that ever flow,
By the fragrant winds that blow

O’er th’ Elysian flow'rs ;
By those happy souls who dwell
In yellow meads of Afphodel,
Or Amaranthine bow'rs;

By the hero's armed shades,
Glitt'ring thro' the gloomy glades;
By the youths that dy'd for love,

Wand'ring in the myrtle grove,
Restore, restore Eurydice to life :

80 Oh take the husband, or return the wife !

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He sung, and hell consented

To hear the Poet's prayer :
Stern Proserpine relented,
And gave him back the fair.

Thus fong could prevail

O’er death, and o'er hell,
A conquest how hard and how glorious ?

Tho' fate had fast bound her

With Styx nine times round her, Yet music and love were victorious.


But soon, too soon, the lover turns his eyes :
Again the falls, again lhe dies, she dies!
How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move?
No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.

95 Now

Now under hanging mountains,
Beside the falls of fountains,
Or where Hebrus wanders,
Rolling in Mæanders,
All alone,

JOO Pin Unheard, unknown,

He makes his moan;

And calls her ghoft,
For ever, ever, ever lost!
Now with Furies surrounded,

Despairing, confounded,
He trembles, he glows,

Amidst Rhodope's snows : See, wild as the winds, o'er the defart he flies; Hark! Hæmus resounds with the Bacchanals cries

Ah see, he dies ! Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he sung, Eurydice still trembled on his tongue,

Eurydice the woods,

Eurydice the floods,
Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung.

Music the fiercest grief can charm,
And fate's feverest rage difarm:
Mufic can foften pain to ease,

And make despair and madness pleafe:
Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the bliss above. This the divine Cecilia found, And to her Maker's praise confin'd the found. 125



IVhen the full organ joins the tuneful quise,

Th' immortal pow'rs incline their car; Borne on the swelling notes our fouls aspire, While folemn airs improve the facred fire;

And Angels lean from heav'n to hear. Of Orpheus now no more let Poets tell, To bright Cecilia greater power is giv'n; His numbers rais d a fhade from hell,

Hers lift the soul to heav'n.


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Tragedy of B R U T U s*.




E shades, where sacred truth is fought;

Groves, where immortal Sages taught :
Where heav'nly visions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir'd !
In vain your guiltless laurels stood

Unspotted long with human blood.
War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Muses shades.

Oh heav'n-born sifters! source of art!
Who charm the sense, or mend the heart;
Who lead fair Virtue's train along,
Moral Truth, and mystic Song !

To * Altered from Shakespear by the Duke of Buckingham, at whose desire these two Chorus's were composed to supply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckingham-house. P.

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