The great man's curse, without the gains, endure, 510 515 Oh! if the Muse must flatter lawless sway, 520 Then teach me, Heaven! to scorn the guilty bays, Drive from my breast that wretched lust of praise; Oh, grant an honest fame, or grant me none !" ST. CECILIA. ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY, MDCCVIII. AND OTHER PIECES FOR MUSIC. I. ESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing; DESCE The breathing instruments inspire, Wake into voice each silent string, Hark! the numbers soft and clear Now louder, and yet louder rise, And fill with spreading sounds the skies; Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes, In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats; Till, by degrees, remote and small, The strains decay, And melt away, In a dying, dying fall. II. By music, minds an equal temper know, Or, when the soul is press'd with cares, Morpheus rouses from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, Intestine war no more our passions wage, III. But when our country's cause provokes to arms, So when the first bold vessel dared the seas, High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain, Inflam'd with glory's charms: 15 20 25 330 335 40 45 IV. But when through all the infernal bounds, What sounds were heard, What scenes appear'd, O'er all the dreary coasts! Dismal screams, Shrieks of woe, Sullen moans, Hollow groans, And cries of tortured ghosts! But, hark! he strikes the golden lyre: See shady forms advance! Thy stone, O Sisyphus, stands still, And the pale spectres dance! The Furies sink upon their iron beds, And snakes uncurl'd hang listening round their heads. 70 V. By the streams that ever flow, By the fragrant winds that blow By those happy souls who dwell Or Amaranthine bowers; By the hero's armed shades, Glittering through the gloomy glades; Restore, restore Eurydice to life: O take the husband, or return the wife!" He sung, and hell consented To hear the Poet's prayer : Stern Proserpine relented, And gave him back the fair. 1 ["For death is not more strong than love."-Sandys.] 75 80 85 Thus song could prevail O'er death, and o'er hell, A conquest how hard and how glorious! With Styx nine times round her, Yet music and love were victorious. VI. But soon, too soon, the lover turns his eyes: Beside the falls of fountains, Or where Hebrus wanders, Rolling in meanders, See, wild as the winds, o'er the desert he flies; 110 Hark! Hæmus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries |