Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky With necks in thunder clothed, and long reloves. Her track, where'er the goddess roves, Glory pursue, and generous Shame, sounding pace. Hark, his hands the lyre explore! Bright-eyed Fancy, hovering o'er, The unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy Scatters from her pictured urn flame. Woods that wave o'er Delphi's steep, How do your tuneful echoes languish, Murmured deep a solemn sound; Left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. Far from the sun and summer gale, To him the mighty mother did unveil Her awful face; the dauntless child Stretched forth his little arms and smiled. "This pencil take," she said, "whose colors clear Richly paint the vernal year; Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal boy! This can unlock the gates of joy, Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears." Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. But, ah, 'tis heard no more! O lyre divine, what daring spirit Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, Beneath the good how far! but far above the great! Nor second he, that rode sublime Upon the seraph-wings of ecstasy, The secrets of the abyss to spy. He passed the flaming bounds of place and time; The living Throne, the sapphire-blaze, Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, Wide o'er the fields of glory bear Two coursers of ethereal race, 638 FROM "THE HUMBLE BEE.” humble bee, Burly, dozing. Thon anim remated torredisont! Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful choir, With flying fingers touched the lyre; The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire. The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, (Such is the power of mighty love.) A dragon's fiery form belied the god; Sublime on radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia pressed, And while he sought her snowy breast; 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 The monarch hears, 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 young. The jolly god in triumph comes, He shows his honest face; Now give the hautboys breath. He comes, he comes! Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; CHORUS. Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound the king grew vain; The master saw the madness rise; He sung Darius, great and good, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, 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, The mighty master smiled, to see 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, 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. CHORUS. 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 oppressed, The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast. Now strike the golden lyre again, A louder yet, and yet a louder strain! And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder. As awaked from the dead, And amazed, he stares around. Revenge! revenge! Timotheus cries, 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 Behold how they toss their torches on high! |