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By the hero's armed shades,

Glittering through the gloomy glades;
By the youths that dy'd for love,

Wandering in the myrtle grove,

Reftore, reftore Eurydice to life :

Oh take the husband, or return the wife!

He fung, and hell confented

To hear the Poet's prayer;
Stern Proferpine relented,
And gave him back the fair,
Thus fong could prevail

O'er death, and o'er hell,

A conqueft how hard and how glorious!
Though fate had fast bound her

With Styx nine times round her,

Yet mufic and love were victorious.

VI.

But foon, too foon the lover turns his eyes :
Again she falls, again fhe dies, she dies!

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How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move?

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No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.

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Now with Furies furrounded,

Defpairing, confounded,

He trembles, he glows,

Amidft Rhodope's snows:

See, wild as the winds, o'er the defert he flies;
Hark! Hamus refounds with the Bacchanals cries-

Ah fee, he dies!

Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he fung,

Eurydice ftill trembled on his tongue,

Eurydice the woods,

Eurydice the floods,

Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rung.

VII.

Music the fierceft grief can charm,

And fate's feverest rage difarm :

Music can soften pain to ease,

And make despair and madness please :

Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the blifs above.

This the divine Cecilia found,

And to her Maker's praise confin'd the found.
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire,
Th' immortal powers incline their ear;
Borne on the fwelling notes our fouls aspire,
While folemn airs improve the facred fire;
And angels lean from heaven to hear.
Of Orpheus now no more let Poets tell,
To bright Cecilia greater power is given:
His numbers rais'd a fhade from hell,
Her's lift the foul to heaven.

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TWO

TWO

CHORUSE S

то THE

TRAGEDY OF BRUTUS.

Altered from Shakespeare by the Duke of Buckingham, at whose defire these two Chorufes were compofed, to fupply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckingham-house.

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CHORUS OF ATHENIANS.

STROPHE I.

E shades, where facred truth is fought;
Groves, where immortal Sages taught :
Where heavenly visions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir'd!

In vain your guiltless laurels ftood
Unfpotted long with human blood.

War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Mufes' fhades.

ANTISTROPHE I.

Oh heaven-born fifters fource of art!

Who charm the sense, or mend the heart;
Who lead fair Virtue's train along,
Moral truth and mystic Song!

To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forfaken, friendless, shall ye fly?
Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic fhore?
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?

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STROPHE

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STROPHE II.

When Athens finks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spurn her duft ;
Perhaps ev❜n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to blush with ftranger's gore;
See Arts her favage fons control,
And Athens rifing near the pole!
Till fome new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears them from the land.

ANTISTROPHE II.

Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball!
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate'er Ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are flaves.
Oh curs'd effects of civil hate,
In every age, in every state!

Still, when the luft of tyrant power fucceeds,
Some Athens perishes, fome Tully bleeds.

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CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS.

SEMICHORUS.

OH Tyrant Love! haft thou poffeft

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breaft ?

Wisdom and Wit in vain reclaim,

And Arts but soften us to feel thy flame.

Love, foft intruder, enters here,
But entering learns to be fincere.

Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
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Why, Virtue, doft thou blame defire,
Which Nature has imprest?

Why, Nature, doft thou fooneft fire
The mild and generous breaft?

CHORUS.

Love's purer flames the Gods approve ;
The Gods and Brutus bend to Love :
Brutus for abfent Porcia fighs,
And fterner Caffius melts at Junia's eyes.
What is loofe love? a tranfient guft,
Spent in a fudden storm of luft,
A vapour fed from wild defire,
A wandering, felf-confuming fire.
But Hymen's kinder flames unite;
And burn for ever one;

Chafte as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the Sun.

SEMICHORUS.

Oh fource of every focial tye,

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United wish, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,

As fon, as father, brother, husband, friend?

Whether his hoary fire he spies,

While thoufand grateful thoughts arise;

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Or meets his spouse's fonder eye;

Or views his fmiling progeny;

What tender paffions take their turns,
What home-felt raptures move!

His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With reverence, hope, and love.

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CHORUS.

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