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While in more lengthen'd notes and flow,
Hark! the numbers soft and clear,
And fill with spreading rounds the skies; Exulting in triumph 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
By Music, minds an equal temper know,
Nor swell too high, nor sink too low. If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, Music her foft, assuasive voice applies ;
Or, when the soul is press’d with cares,
Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Melancholy lifts her head,
Liftning Envy drops her snakes ;
But when our country's cause provokes to arms, How martial music every bofom warms! So when the first bold vessel dar'd the feas, 'High on the stern the Thracian rais'd his frain,
While Argo saw her kindred trees
Transported demi-gods stood round,
But when thro' all th' infernal bounds,
Love, strong as Death, the Poet led
To the pale nations of the dead,
See, shady forms advance !
And the pale spectres dance !
- By the streams that ever flow, .
O’er th' Elysian flow'rs;
Or Amaranthine bow'rs;
Glitt'ring thro' the gloomy glades;
"Wand'ring in the myrtle grove,
He sung, and hell consented :
To hear the Poet's prayer: .
Thus song could prevail
O’er death, and o’er hell,
Tho' fate had faft bound her
With Styx nine times round her, Yet music and love were victorious.
But soon, too soon, the lover turns his eyes :
Now under hanging mountains,
Amidst Rhodope's snows :
Ah see, he dies !
Eurydice the woods,
Eurydice the floods,
Music the fiercest grief can charm,
Our joys below it can improve,
And antedate the bliss above.
Th’immortal.pow'rs incline their ear : -
And Angels lean from heav'n to hear. Of Orpheus now no more let poets tell, To bright Cecilia greater power is giv'n;
His numbers rais'd a shade from hell,
CH A P.
ALEXANDER’s FE AS T.
WAS at the royal feast, for Persia won,
By Philip's warlike son:
On his imperial tirone:
His valiant peers were plac'd around;
So should desert in arms be crowa’d.
Happy, happy, happy pair ;
Timotheus plac'd on high
Amid the tuneful quire,
And heav'nly joys infpire..
· Who left his blissful seats above, Such is the pow'r of mighty love !.