A dragon's fiery form bely'd the God: When he to fair Olympia prefs'd, And ftamp'd an image of himself, a fov'reign of the world. A prefent deity they shout around, A prefent deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: The monarch hears, Affumes the god, Affects to nod, And feems to shake the fpheres. The praise of Bacchus then, the fweet musician fung The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums He fhews his honeft face. Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain : Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Sooth'd with the found, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he flew the flain, The master saw the madness rife ; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; ว And And while he heav'n and earth defy'd He chofe a mournful mufe Soft pity to infufe: He fung Darius great and good, By too fevere a fate, Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downçaft look the joylefs victor fate, The various turns of fate below; The mighty master smil'd, to see Softly fweet in Lydian measures, Never ending, ftill beginning, If the world be worth thy winning, Lovely Thais fits befide thee, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the fkies with loud applaufe; So love was crown'd, but mufic won the cause, The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gaz'd on the fair Who caus'd his care, And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look, At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, Now ftrike the golden lyre again; And louder yet, and yet a louder strain, Break his bands of fleep afunder, And rouze him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid found Has rais'd up his head; As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he ftares around. Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the furies arife, See the fnakes that they rear, How they hifs in the air, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghaftly band, Each a torch in his hand, Thefe are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were flain, And unbury'd remain Inglorious on the plain; 5 Behold Behold how they tofs their torches on high, How they point to the Perfian abodes, And glitt'ring temples of their hostile gods !— And the King feiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to deftroy; 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; Timotheus to his breathing flute And founding lyre, Could fwell the foul to rage, or kindle foft defire. Inventrefs of the vocal frame; The sweet enthufiaft, from her facred ftore, And added length to folemn founds, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before, |