.

Tranfported demi-gods flood round,
And men grew heroes at the found,
Enflam'd with glory's charms:
Each chief his fev'nfold fhield difplay'd,
And half unheath'd the fhining blade:
And feas, and rocks, and skies rebound
To arms, to arms, to arms!

IV.

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

Love, ftrong as Death, the Poet led
To the pale nations of the dead,
What founds were heard,
What fcenes appear'd,

O'er all the dreary coafts!
Dreadful gleams,
Difmal fcreams,

Fires that glow,

Shrieks of woe,

Sullen moans,

Hollow groans
And cries of tortur'd ghosts!
But hark! he ftrikes the golden lyre;

And fee! the tortur'd ghosts refpire,
See, fhady forms advance!
Thy ftone, O Sifyphus, ftands ftill,
Ixion refts upon his wheel,

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50

55

60

65

The Furies fink upon their iron beds,

And fnakes uncuri'd hang lift'ning round the

heads.

V.

By the streams that ever flow,

By the fragrant winds that blow
O'er th' Elyfian flow'rs;

By thofe happy fouls 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,
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?
Tho' fate had faft 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 the falls, again fhe dies, the dies!
How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move?
No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.
Now under hanging mountains,
Befide the falls of fountains,
Or where Hebrus wanders,
Rolling in Mæanders,

All alone,
Unheard, unknown,
He makes his moan;
And calls her ghost,
- Før ever, ever, ever loft!
Now with Furies furrounded,
Defpairing, confounded,
He trembles, he glows,
Amidst Rhodope's fnows:

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

Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he fung,
Eurydice fill trembled on his tongue,
Eurydice the woods,

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105

III.

Eurydice the floods,

115

Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung.

VII.

Mufic the fierceft grief can charm, And fate's fevereft rage difarm: Mufic can foften pain to ease, And make defpair 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. 125 When the full organ joins the tuneful quire,

Th' immortal pow'rs incline their ear; Borne on the fwelling 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 pow'r is giv'n; His numbers rais'd a fhade from hell, Hers lift the foul to heav'n.

I 20

130

TWO

CHORUS 'S

ΤΟ THE

Tragedy of BRUTUS',

CHORUS of ATHENIANS.

YE

STROPHE I.

E fhades, where facred truth is fought;
Groves, where immortal Sages taught:
Where heav'nly vifions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir'd!

In vain your guiltlefs laurels ftood
Unfpotted long with human blood.
War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Mufes fhades.

ANTIS TROPHE I.

Oh heav'n-born fifters! fource of art!

Who charm the sense, or mend the heart; 10

a Altered from Shakespear by the Duke of Buckingham, at whofe defire thefe two Chorus's were compofed to supply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckinghamhouse.

P.