ODE FOR

ON

MUSIC

D

ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

I.

ESCEND, ye Nine! defcend, and fing;
The breathing inftruments inspire;

Wake into voice each filent ftring,

And sweep the founding lyre!

In a fadly-pleafing strain

Let the warbling lute complain:
Let the loud trumpet found,
Till the roofs all around

The fhrill echoes rebound:

While, in more lengthen'd notes and flow,

The deep, majestic, folemn organs blow.

Hark! the numbers foft and clear

Gently steal upon the ear;

Now louder, and yet louder rife,

And fill with spreading founds the skies; Exulting in triumph now fwell the bold notes,

In broken air trembling, the wild mufic floats;

Till, by degrees, remote and small,

The ftrains decay,

And melt away,

In a dying, dying fall,

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By

II.

By Mufic, minds an equal temper know,
Nor fwell too high, nor fink too low.
If in the breast tumultuous joys arife,
Mufic her foft, affuafive voice applies;

Or, when the foul is prefs'd with cares,
Exalts her in enlivening airs.

Warriors fhe fires with animated sounds;

Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds;
Melancholy lifts her head,

Morpheus roufes from his bed,

Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, .

Listening Envy drops her fnakes;

Intestine war no more our Paffions wage,
And giddy Factions hear away their rage.

III.

But when our Country's caufe provokes to Arms,
How martial music every bofom warms!

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So when the first bold veffel dar'd the feas,

High on the ftern the Thracian rais'd his ftrain,

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While Argo faw her kindred trees
Defcend from Pelion to the main.
Transported demi-gods flood round,
And men grew heroes at the found,
Enflam'd with glory's charms:
Each chief his fevenfold fhield display'd,

And half unfheath'd the fhining blade:

And feas, and rocks, and skies rebound

To arms, to arms, to arms!

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But

IV.

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

Love, ftrong as Death, the Poets led
To the pale nations of the dead,

What founds were heard,

What fcenes appear'd,

O'er all the dreary coafts!

Dreadful gleams,
Dismal fcreams,

Fires that glow,

Shrieks of woe,

Sullen moans,

Hollow groans,

And cries of tortur'd ghofts!

But hark! he ftrikes the golden lyre;
And fee! the tortur'd ghofts refpire.

See, fhady forms advance!

Thy ftone, O Sifyphus, ftands ftill,
Ixion refts upon his wheel,

And the pale spectres dance!

The Furies fink upon their iron beds,

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And snakes uncurl'd hang listening round their heads.

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By

By the hero's armed fhades,
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 fhe falls, again fhe dies, fhe 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.

Now with Furies furrounded,

Defpairing, confounded,

He trembles, he glows,

Amidst Rhodope's snows:

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,

Eurydice the floods,

Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rung.

VII.

Mufic the fierceft grief can charm,

And fate's feverest rage difarm:

Mufic can soften pain to ease,

And make despair and madness please:
Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the blifs above.

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This the divine Cecilia found,

And to her Maker's praise confin'd the found.
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire,

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Th' immortal powers incline their car; Borne on the fwelling notes our fouls afpire, 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