CHORUS Bacchus blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound the king grew vain; The master saw the madness rise; Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius, great and good, With downcast looks the joyous victor sate, The various turns of chance below; 88 CHORUS Revolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below; The mighty master smiled, to see Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Never ending, still beginning, 92 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, At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, 115 CHORUS The prince, unable to conceal his pain, 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 oppressed, The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast. Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. 122 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 around. 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, Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy! CHORUS 150 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! 154 Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, While organs yet were mute; Timotheus, to his breathing flute, And sounding lyre, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft At last divine Cecilia came, The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. 170 GRAND CHORUS .At last divine Cecilia came, The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. 1697. 180 John Dryden. ODE TO ADVERSITY DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power, Bound in thy adamantine chain The proud are taught to taste of pain, With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. 8 |