But felt through all this fleshly dress Bright shoots of everlastingness. O how I long to travel back, And tread again that ancient track! That I might once more reach that plain Where first I left my glorious train; From whence th' enlighten'd spirit sees That shady city of palm-trees. But ah! my soul with too much stay Is drunk, and staggers in the way! Some men a forward motion love, But I by backward steps would move; And when this dust falls to the urn, In that state I came, return. JOHN DRYDEN A SONG FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY, FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high: "Arise, ye more than dead." Then cold and hot and moist and dry What passion cannot Music raise and quell! When Jubal struck the chorded shell, His listening brethern stood around, And, wondering, on their faces fell To worship that celestial sound. Less than a god they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion cannot Music raise and quell! The trumpet's loud clangour Excites us to arms With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. His valiant peers were placed around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound: (So should desert in arms be crowned.) The lovely Thais, by his side, Sate like a blooming Eastern bride, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. CHORUS Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful choir, With flying fingers touched the lyre: Then round her slender waist he curled, And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, "A present deity," they shout around; "A present deity," the vaulted roofs rebound: With ravished ears And seems to shake the spheres. CHORUS With ravished ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young. Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Sweet the pleasure, Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed 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. The master saw the madness rise, He chose a mournful Muse, He sung Darius great and good, Fallen from his high estate, With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. CHORUS Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. The mighty master smiled to see Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, ures. "War," he sung, "is toil and trouble; Honor but an empty bubble; Never ending, still beginning, Think, oh think it worth enjoying; Take the good the gods provide The many rend the skies with loud applause : So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, Sighed and looked, and sighed again: At length, with love and wine at once op pressed, The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast. CHORUS At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast. Now strike the golden lyre again: Hark, hark, the horrid sound As awaked from the dead, cries, "See the Furies arise! See the snakes that they rear, And the sparkles that flash from their Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain 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 destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, The prince, unable to conceal his pain, And, like another Helen, fired another Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, Sighed and looked, and sighed again: Troy. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, |