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Eurydice the woods,
Eurydice the floods,

115 Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung.

Music the fiercest grief can charm,
And fate's severest rage disarm:
Music can soften pain to ease, 120
And make despair and madness please :
Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the bliss above.
This the divine Cecilia found,
And to her Maker's praise confin’d the sound. 125
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire,

Th’immortal pow'rs incline their ear; Borne on the swelling notes our souls aspire, While solemn airs improve the sacred fire ;

And Angels lean from heav'n to hear. 130 Of Orpheus now no more let Poets tell, To bright Cecilia greater power is giv'n; His numbers rais'd a shade from hell,

Hers lift the soul to heav'n.


Tragedy of Brutus.
Chorus of ATHENIAN S.

V E shades, where sacred truth is fought;
1 Groves, where immortal Sages taught:

Where heav'nly vifions Plato fir’d,
And Epicurus lay inspir’d!
In vain your guiltless laurels stood 5

Unspotted long with human blood.
War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Muses shades.

REMARKS, THESE two Chorus's were composed to enrich a very poor Play ; but they had the ulual effect of ill-adjusted Ornaments, only to make its meanne's the more confpicuous,

* Altered from Shakespear by the Duke of Buckingham, at whose desire these two Chorus's were compoted to lupply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckinghamhouse. P.

VER. 3. Wbere heavenly Visions Plato fir'd, And Epicurus, lay inspir'd!] The propriety of these lines arises from hence, that Brutus, one of the Heroes of this Play, was of the Old Academy; and Caffius, the other, was an Epicurean; but this had not been enough to justify the Poet's choice, had not Plato's System of Divinity, and Epicurus's system of Morals, been the most rational amongst the various sects of Greek Philofophy.

Oh heav'n-born fisters! source of art!
Who charm the sense, or meni the kaart;
Who lead fair Virtue's train alor, 11
Moral Truth, and mystic Soeg!
To what new clime, what diftast fey,

Forsaken, friendless, fraye bye
Say, will ye bless the bleak Acaris fraxe? 15
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude o mare?

When Athens finks by fires de
When wild Barbarians pure le cate;
Perhaps ev’n Britain's urro Gore
Shall cease to blush with frerger's gre, 29
See Arts her favage fors corto,

And Athens riting rear the price
'Till some new Tyrant lifts his purpe tard,
And civil madness tears them from the land.


Ver. 12. Moral tr uth AND for He has expreffe i himself better had he said,

“ Moral truth in myftic furg! In the Antistrophe he turns from Philliy to Mythalagy; and Mythology is nothing but moral truih in mistic fing.


Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball !
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate’er Ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are laves.
Oh curs’d effects of civil hate,

In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state!
Still, when the luft of tyrant pow'r succeeds,
Some Athens perishes, some Tully bleeds.


CHORUS of Youths and Virginsä

O H Tyrant Love! hast thou poffeft

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but foften us to feel thy flame.
Love, soft intruder, enters here,

But entring learns to be sincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
Why, Virtue, dost thou blame desire,

Which Nature has imprest?
Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire
The mild and gen’rous breast?

Love's purer flames the Gods approve;
The Gods and Brutus bend to love:


REM A R K S. Ver. 9. Why Virtue, etc.) In allusion to that famous conceit of Gúarini,

“ Se il peccare è sì dolce, etc. Vol. 1,

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