For 'tis impossible you should proceed. 65 70 75 ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. A SONG IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY: 1697. I 'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne; 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, In flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, 5 ΙΟ None but the brave deserves the fair. 15 3 The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Drinking joys did first ordain; Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. CHORUS. Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. 4 Soothed with the sound the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; 65 And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise, And while he heaven and earth defied, His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; 70 Changed his hand, and checked his pride. Soft pity to infuse; He sung Darius great and good, Fallen from his high estate, 75 Deserted at his utmost need By those his former bounty fed; On the bare earth exposed he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, The various turns of chance below; CHORUS. 80 85 Never ending, still beginning, Take the good the gods provide thee. 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, 105 ΙΙΟ At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, 115 CHORUS. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, 6 Now strike the golden lyre again; 120 A louder yet, and yet a louder strain, Break his bands of sleep asunder, 125 And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain: 140 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! 145 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. 150 |