bigher :

When to her organ vocal breath was given An angel heard, and straight appear'dMistaking Earth for Heaven!

GRAND CHORUS.

As from the power of sacred lays

The spheres began to move, And sung the great Creator's praise

To all the blest above;

So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky.

JOHN DRYDEN.

ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

I.

DESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing;
The breathing instruments inspire;
Wake into voice each silent string,
And sweep the sounding lyre!

In a sadly-pleasing strain
Let the warbling lute complain:
Let the loud trumpet sound,
Till the roofs all around
The shrill echoes rebound:
While in more lengthen'd notes and slow
The deep, majestic, solemn organs blow.
Hark! the numbers soft and clear
Gently steal upon the ear;
Now louder, and yet louder rise,
And fill with spreading sounds the skies;
Exulting in triumph now swell the bold

Pours balm into the bleeding lover's

wounds:

Melancholy lifts her head,

Morpheus rouses from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, List'ning Envy drops her snakes, Intestine war no more our Passions wage, And giddy Factions hear away their rage.

III.

But when our country's cause provokes to

arms,

How martial music ev'ry bosom warms! So when the first bold vessel dared the

seas,

High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain,

While Argo saw her kindred trees
Descend from Pelion to the main.
Transported demigods stood round,
And men grew heroes at the sound,

Inflamed with glory's charms:
Each chief his sevenfold shield display'd,
And half unsheathed the shining blade:
And seas, and rocks, and skies rebound,
To arms! to arms! to arms!

IV.

But when through all th' infernal bounds Which flaming Phlegethon surrounds,

Love, strong as Death, the poet led
To the pale nations of the dead,
What sounds were heard,
What scenes appear'd

O'er all the dreary coasts!
Dreadful gleams,
Dismal screams,
Fires that glow,
Shrieks of woe,

Lpher:

n to her organ vocal breith was. Iven angel heard, and straight appear 1vod King Larh de Heaven !

GRAND CHORES.

*. tem the power of sacred lays
The spheres began to move,
Ad sung the great Creator's praise
To all the bles, above:

waer the fast and dresdiul hoor Its crumbling pageant shall de cour, The trumpet shall be leard on big', The dead shall live, the lying die, And Music shall uature the say.

JOHN PRIPA

ODE ON ST. ĈFOLINS Þay,

I.

THE SCEND, ye Nine! descend and s'ng;
ne breathing instruments in que;
Mke into voice each let string.
and sweep the sounding lyre!
sadly-pleasing strain

the warbling lace complain:
Let the loud trumpet sound,
I'll the roofs all aroun. !
The shril echoes rebound:

istole in more lengthen'd notes and slow

oep majestic, solene organs blow, Pk, the numbers soft and chu

sently steal upon the ear;

loud r, and yet louder rise,

ma is with spreading sounds the skics, i in trumph now swell the bord

bigher:

When to her organ vocal breath was given An angel heard, and straight appear'dMistaking Earth for Heaven!

GRAND CHORUS.

As from the power of sacred lays

The spheres began to move, And sung the great Creator's praise

To all the blest above;

So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky.

JOHN DRYDEN.

ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

I.

DESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing
The breathing instruments inspire;
Wake into voice each silent string,
And sweep the sounding lyre!

In a sadly-pleasing strain
Let the warbling lute complain:

Let the loud trumpet sound,
Till the roofs all around
The shrill echoes rebound:
While in more lengthen'd notes and slow
The deep, majestic, solemn organs blow.
Hark! the numbers soft and clear
Gently steal upon the ear;
Now louder, and yet louder rise,
And fill with spreading sounds the skies;
Exulting in triumph now swell the bold

Pours balm into the bleeding lover's

wounds:

Melancholy lifts her head,

Morpheus rouses from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, List'ning Envy drops her snakes, Intestine war no more our Passions wage, And giddy Factions hear away their rage.

III.

But when our country's cause provokes to arms,

How martial music ev'ry bosom warms! So when the first bold vessel dared the

seas,

High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain,

While Argo saw her kindred trees
Descend from Pelion to the main.
Transported demigods stood round,
And men grew heroes at the sound,

Inflamed with glory's charms:
Each chief his sevenfold shield display'd,
And half unsheathed the shining blade:
And seas, and rocks, and skies rebound,
To arms! to arms! to arms!

IV.

But when through all th' infernal bounds,
Which flaming Phlegethon surrounds,

Love, strong as Death, the poet led
To the pale nations of the dead,
What sounds were heard,
What scenes appear'd

O'er all the dreary coasts!
Dreadful gleams,
Dismal screams,
Fires that glow,

Shrieks of woe,