A dragon's fiery form belied the god: When he to fair Olympia pressed, 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.— The monarch hears; And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician sung; The jolly god in triumph comes! He shows his honest face. Now give the hautboys breath-he comes! he comes! Drinking joys did first ordain. Bacchus' blessings are a treasure ; Drinking is the soldier's pleasure. Rich the treasure; Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed 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; And, while he heaven and earth defied, Changed his hand, and checked his pride. He chose a mournful muse Soft pity to infuse. He sung Darius, great and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And weltering in his blood. Deserted in his utmost need By those his former bounty fed, With not a friend to close his eyes. With downcast look the joyless victor sat The various turns of fate below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, The mighty master smiled, to see The Take the good the gods provide thee.— 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, Now, strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain: Break his bands of sleep asunder, 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 criesSee the furies arise! See the snakes that they rear, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes!— Each a torch in his hand! These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, Inglorious on the plain. Give the vengeance due Behold how they toss their torches on high! How they point to the Persian abodes, And glittering temples of their hostile gods!— The princes applaud, with a furious joy; And the king seized a flambeau, with zeal to destroy: To light him to his prey; And, like another Helen-fired another Troy. 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 desire. Inventress of the vocal frame. And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Or both divide the crown: DRYDEN. 17.-SPEECH OF ROLLA. My brave associates-partners of my toil, my feelings, and my fame! Can Rolla's words add vigour to the virtuous energies which inspire your hearts?—No;-you have judged as I have, the foulness of the -we serve crafty plea by which these bold invaders would delude you. Your generous spirit has compared, as mine has, the motives which, in a war like this, can animate their minds and ours.-They, by a strange frenzy driven, fight for power, for plunder, and extended rule;—we, for our country, our altars, and our homes.-They follow an adventurer whom they fear, and obey a power which they hate;— a monarch whom we love,—a God whom we adore.—Whene'er they move in anger, desolation tracks their progress!-Whene'er they pause in amity, affliction mourns their friendship.-They boast, they come but to improve our state, enlarge our thoughts, and free us from the yoke of error!-Yes-they will give enlightened freedom to our minds, who are themselves the slaves of passion, avarice, and pride. They offer us their protection.-Yes, such protection as vultures give to lambs-covering and devouring them.—They call on us to barter all of good we have inherited and proved, for the desperate chance of something better which they promise.—Be our plain answer this: The throne we honour is the people's choice ;— the laws we reverence are our brave fathers' legacy;-the faith we follow teaches us to live in bonds of charity with all mankind, and die with hope of bliss beyond the grave.--Tell your invaders this, and tell them too, we seek no change; and, least of all, such change as they would bring us. SHERIDAN'S Pizarro. 18.-VIRGINIUS APPEALING TO HIS FELLOW-CITIZENS TO RESCUE HIS DAUGHTER FROM THE HANDS OF APPIUS. Is this the daughter of a slave? I know That saw her lying at the generous The tongues that told him she was not my child Look upon her, Romans! Befriend her! succour her! see her not polluted She is unstained! your hands! your hands! your hands. SHERIDAN KNOWLES. 19. CLARENCE'S DREAM. METHOUGHT that I had broken from the Tower, Upon the hatches; thence we looked toward England, That had befallen us. As we paced along Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, Methought that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, |