ALEXANDER’S FEAST,

OR

THE POWER OF MUSIC;

AN ODE IN HONOUR OF ST CECILIA'S DAY.

This celebrated Ode was written for the Saint's Festival in 1697,

when the following stewards officiated: Hugh Colvill, Esq. ; Capt. Thomas Newman ; Orlando Bridgeman, Esq., Theophilus Buller, Esq. ; Leonard Wessell, Esq.; Paris Slaughter, Esg.; Jeremiah Clarke, Gent.; and Francis Rich, Gent. The merits of this unequalled effusion of lyrical poetry, are fully discussed in the general criticism.

I. 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son:

Aloft, in awful state,

The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne. His valiant peers were placed around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound :

(So should desert in arms be crown'd.) The lovely Thais, by his side, Sate like a blooming eastern bride,

а
In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy, happy, happy pair!
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deserves the fair.

CHORUS.
Happy, happy, happy pair !
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deserves the fair.

II.
Timotheus, placed on high

Amid the tuneful quire,
With flying fingers touch'd 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 spheres he rode,

When he to fair Olympia press’d,

And while he sought her snowy breast;
Then, round her slender waist he curld,
And stamp'd 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 ravish'd ears,
The monarch hears;
Assumes the God,

Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.

CHORUS.
With ravish'd ears,
The monarch hears ;
Assumes the God,

Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.

III.
The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musiciansung;
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.
Bacchus, ever fair and

young,
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.

CHORUS.

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ;

Řich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,
Sweet is pleasure after pain.

IV.
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 ;
And, while he heaven and earth defied,
Changed his hand, and check'd his pride,

He chose a mournful muse,
Soft pity to infuse ;

1

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, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed ;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,

With not a friend to close his eyes.
With downcast looks the joyless Victor sate,

Revolving, in his alter'd soul,

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,

And tears began to flow.

CHORUS.

Revolving, in his alter'd soul,

The various turns of chance below ;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

V.
The mighty Master smiled, to see
That love was in the next degree;
'Twas but a kindred-sound to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet in Lydian measures,

Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures : War, he sung,

is toil and trouble ; Honour, but an empty bubble ;

Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying:

If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O think it worth enjoying ;

Lovely Thais sits beside thee,
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,

Gazed on the fair,

Who caused his care,
And sigh'd and look’d, sigh'd and lookid,

Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again ;
At length, with love and wine at once oppress’d,
The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast. .

CHORUS.
The Prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gazed on the fair,

Who caused his care,
And sigh'd and look’d, sigh'd and lookd,

Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again ;
At length, with love and wine

at once oppress’d, The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast.

VI. 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 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 !