He chose a mournful muse, He sung Darius, great and good, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, The various turns of chance below; CHORUS. Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; The mighty master smiled to see Lovely Thais sits beside thee; Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause: So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, At length, with love and wine at once opprest, CHORUS. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Who caused his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, At length, with love and wine at once opprest, Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark! hark! the horrid sound Has raised up his head, As awaked from the dead, And, amazed, he stares round. Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the furies arise! See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair! And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glittering temples of their hostile gods! The princes applaud with a furious joy, And the king seized a flambeau, with zeal to destroy: Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. CHORUS. And the king seized a flambeau, with zeal to Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, [destroy: And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. Thus long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute, Timotheus, to his breathing flute And sounding lyre, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, He raised a mortal to the skies, GRAND CHORUS. At last divine Cecilia came, The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. RELIGIO LAICI. Ornari res ipsa negat, contenta docere. DIM as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars Is reason to the soul; and as on high When day's bright lord ascends our hemisphere, Leap'd into form, the noble work of chance; |