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Where Peace defcending bids her olives spring,
And scatters bleffings from her dove-like wing.
Ev'n I more sweetly pafs my careless days,
Pleas'd in the filent fhade with empty praise;
Enough for me, that to the lift'ning fwains
Firft in these fields I fung the fylvan ftrains.

430

ODE

ON

ST. CECILIA's DAY,

M DCC VIII.

AND OTHER

PIECES for MUSIC.

F3

ODE for MUSIC

ON

ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

D

.I.

Efcend, ye Nine! defcend and fing;
The breathing inftruments inspire,

Wake into voice each filent ftring,
And sweep the founding lyre!
In a fadly-pleafing strain

Let the warbling lute complain :
Let the loud trumpet found,

'Till the roofs all around

The fhrill echos rebound :

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Ode for Mufic.] This is one of the most artful as well as fublime of our Poet's fmaller compofitions. The first ftanza is a defcription of the various tones and measures in mufic. The Second relates their power over the feveral paffions in general. The third, their use in infpiring the Heroic paffions in particular. The fourth, fifth, and fixth, their power over all nature in the fable of Orpheus's expedition to hell; which fubject of illuftration arofe naturally out of the preceding mention of the Argonautic expedition, where Orpheus gives an example of the use of Mufic to inspire the heroic paffions. The feventh and laft concludes in praife of Mufic, and the advantages of the facred above the prophane.

While in more lengthen'd notes and flow,
The deep, majestic, folemn organs blow.

Hark! the numbers foft and clear,
Gently fteal upon the ear;

Now louder, and yet louder rife

And fill with spreading founds the skies;
Exulting in triumph now fwell the bold notes,
In broken air, trembling, the wild mufic floats;
"Till, by degrees, remote and small,
The ftrains decay,

And melt away,

In a dying, dying fall.

II.

By Mufic, minds an equal témper know,
Nor fwell too high, nor fink too low.
If in the breast tumultuous joys arife,
Mufic her foft, affuafive voice applies;

Or, when the foul is prefs'd with cares,
Exalts her in enlivening airs.

Warriors fhe fires with animated founds;

Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds:

Melancholy lifts her head,

Morpheus rouzes from his bed,

Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes,

Lift'ning Envy drops her fnakes;

Inteftine war no more our Paffions wage,

IO

15

20

25

30

And giddy Factions hear away

away their

rage.

35

III.

But when our Country's caufe provokes to Arms,

How martial mufic ev'ry bofom warms!

So

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