(Such is the power of mighty love.) A dragon's fiery form belied the god: Sublime on radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia press'd; 25 [world. And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the The listening crowd admire the lofty sound; A present deity, they shout around: A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: The monarch hears, And seems to shake the spheres. 30 35 The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung; Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young: The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets; beat the drums; He shows his honest face: 40 Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure, 45 Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; 50 Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise; He chose a mournful muse And weltering in his blood; With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, The various turns of chance below; The mighty master smiled, to see "T was but a kindred sound to move, Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Never ending, still beginning, Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause; So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again: 85 90 At length, with love and wine at once opprest, The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast. 95 Now strike the golden lyre again: A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. Break his bands of sleep asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound 100 Has raised up his head! As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise: See the snakes that they rear, 105 How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain: Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. 110 115 Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glittering temples of their hostile gods. The princes applaud, with a furious joy; 119 And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, Timotheus, to his breathing flute, And sounding lyre, Could 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, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, 125 130 134 With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown: He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. L'ALLEGRO. DRYDEN. HENCE, loathed Melancholy, Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn, [holy! 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks and sights un Find out some uncouth cell, 5 Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings, There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. 10 15 Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles, And love to live in dimple sleek; 30 And Laughter holding both his sides. And in thy right hand lead with thee 335 |