In a sadly pleasing strain" The shrill echoes rebound: While in more lengthen'd notes and slow Now louder, and yet louder rise, And fill with spreading sounds the skies; Exulting in triumpli now swell the bold notes, In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats; Till, by degrees, remote and small, The strains decay. And melt away In a dying, dying fall. By Music, minds an equal temper know, Warriors she fires with animated sounds, Morpheus rouses from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, But when our country's cause provokes to arms, Each chief his sev❜nfold shield display'd, But when through all the infernal bounds, What sounds were heard, What scenes appear'd, O'er all the dreary coasts? Hollow groans, And cries of tortur'd ghosts; But hark! he strikes the golden lyre; Thy stone, O Sisyphus, stands still, And the pale spectres dance! And snakes uncurl'd hang list'ning round their heads. 1 Restore, restore Eurydice to life: O take the Husband, or return the Wife! He sung, and Hell consented O'er Death and o'er Hell, A conquest how hard, and how glorious! But soon, too soon, the lover turns his eyes: Unheard, unknown, He trembles, he glows, Amidst Rhodope's snows: See, wild as the winds, o'er the desert he flies; Hark! Hamus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he sung, Eurydice still trembled on his tongue, Eurydice the floods, Ali see, he dies ! Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung. Music the fiercest grief can charm And fate's severest rage disarm ; Music can soften pain to ease, And make despair and madness please; Our joys below it can improve, And antedate the bliss above. This the divine Cecilia found, And to her Maker's praise confin'd the sound. POPE CHAP. XXVII. ALEXANDER'S FEAST. 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won by Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The goudike hero sate On his imperial Throne : His valiant Peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound: The lovely Thäis by his side Sat, like a blooming eastern bride, In flow'r of youth, and beauty's pride. None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. 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, Such is the pow'r of mighty love! A dragon's fiery form belied the god: When he to fair Olympia press'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world- A present deity they shout around, The monarch hears, Assumes the god, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums ; He shows his honest face. Now give the hautboys breath; he comes? he comes! Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. 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 slew the slain. His glowing checks, his ardent eyes; Soft pity to infuse : He sung Darius great and good, Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, |