ALEXANDER'S FEAST: OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. AN ODE IN HONOR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY. 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft, in awful state, The godlike hero sate, On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound, (So should desert in arms be crown'd) The lovely Thais, by his side, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair, CHORUS. "Happy, happy, happy fair! "None but the brave, "None but the brave, "None but the brave deserves the fair." II. Timotheus, plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov❜reign of the A present Deity, the vaulted roofs rebound. The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician Of Bacchus, ever fair, and ever young: The jolly god in triumph comes; [sung; Flush'd with a purple grace, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. CHORUS. He comes! he : [comes ! "Bacchus' blessings are a treasure ; "Rich the treasure, "Sweet the pleasure; "Sweet is pleasure after pain." IV. Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he And while he heav'n and earth defy'd, Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius, great and good; By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And welt'ring in his blood; By those his former bounty fed; On the bare earth expos'd he lies, The various turns of chance below; CHORUS.* 86 Revolving, in his alter'd soul, V. The mighty master smil❜d to see cause. The many rend the skies with loud applause; Who caus'd his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, CHORUS. "The prince, unable to conceal his pain, "Gaz'd on the fair "Who caus'd his care, "And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, "Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again. 66 At length with love and wine at once oppress'd, "The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast." VI. Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Has rais'd up his head: As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he stares around. Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the furies arise! See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair ¦ |