The song began from Jove, A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god; 25 And while he sought her snowy breast; Then round her slender waste he curl'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov'raign of the world. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums; Flush'd with a purple grace Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. He shews his honest face; Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain ; Bacchus blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. 4. Sooth'd with the sound the king grew vain ; Fought all his battails o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise, His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; 35 40 45 50 55 He chose a mournful Muse, He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate Fallen from his high estate, With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, The various turns of chance below: 60 65 70 85 Honour but an empty bubble, Never ending, still beginning, If the world be worth thy winning, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause ; So Love was crown'd, but Musique won the cause. Gaz'd on the fair Who caus'd his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, 90 95 At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, 6. Now strike the golden lyre again; A lowder yet, and yet a lowder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has rais'd up his head; As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he stares around. See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battail were slayn, And unbury'd remain Inglorious on the plain; Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods. The princes applaud with a furious joy; And the king seyz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, 10 light him to his prey, And, like another Hellen, fir'd another Troy. Thus long ago, 7. 'Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute, Timotheus, to his breathing flute And sounding lyre, Cou'd swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds, IOC 105 IIC 115 120 125 130 135 |