Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre : The trembling notes ascend the sky, The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, When he to fair Olympia press'd, And while he sought her snowy breast; Then, round her slender waist he curl'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the world, A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound. The monarch hears, 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. The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums; Flush'd with a purple grace He shews 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. Sooth'd 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, His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; Soft pity to infuse; He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, And weltering in his blood: Deserted at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed, On the bare earth expos'd he lies, The various turns of fate below; The mighty master smil'd, to see Never ending, still beginning, 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, Gaz'd on the fair, Who caus'd his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Has rais'd up his head; As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he stares around. See the furies arise; See the snakes, that they rear, How they hiss in the air, 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: To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods!— The princes applaud, with a furious joy, And the king seiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, And added length to solemn sounds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown; He rais'd a mortal to the skies; She drew an angel down. |