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With down-cast looks the joyless vi&or 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.

The mighty master smil'd, to see
That love was in the next degree ;
'Twas but a kindred found to move;
For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet in Lydian measures,
Soon he footh'd his soul to pleasures.
War, he sung, its 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 fits 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,

Gaz'd on the fair,
That caus'd his care,
And ligh'd and louk'd,

Sigh'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and ligh'd again;
At length with love and wine at once oppress'd,
The vanquish'd victor funk upon her breast !

Now strike the golden lyre agạin :
A louder yet, and yet a louder strain.

Break his bands of neep afunder,
And rouse him like a rattling peal of thundet.

Hark, hark, the horrid found
Has rais'd up his head;
As awak'd from the dead,

And amaz'd he ftares 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 !
These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were Nain,

And unbury'd remain
Inglorious on the plain :
Give the vengeance due

To the valiant crew.
Behold how they tofs their torches on high,

How they point to their Perñan abodes,
And glittering temples of their hoitile gods!

The Princes appland, with a furious joy: And the King teiz'd a fanbcau, with zeal to destroy :

Thais led the way, .

To light him to his prey,
And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.

Thus long ago,
Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow,
While organs yet were mute;
Timotheus, to his breathing Aute

And sounding lyre,
Coald (well the soul to rage, or kindle soft cefire

Atlaft divine Cecilia camé,

loventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,

Enlarg’d the former narrow bounds,

And added length to folemn sounds,
With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before.

Let old Timotheus yield the prize,
Or both divide the crown;
He rais'd a mortal to the skies,
She drew an angel down.

POPE.

MESSIAH.

A SACRED ECLOGUE.

YE Nymphs of Solyma ! begin the fong! To heav'nly themes sublimer strains belong. The moffy fountains, and the fylvan shades, The dreams of Pindus, and th' Aonian maids, Delight no more.- Thou, my voice inspire, Who touch'd Isaiah's hallow'd lips with fire! 1. Rapt into future times, the bard begun: A Virgin shall conceive, a Virgin bear a Son! From Jeffe's root behold a branch arise, Whose sacred flow'r with fragrance fills the skies; Th' Æthereal Spirit o'er its leaves shall move, And on its top descends the mystic Dove.

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Set Docs reti sa the mountains dance,
See focis a lowly Saron rife,
Az: Caser's Eow'ry top perfumes the skies!
Hark! agad vuice the iurely desert cheers;
Prepare the way a God, a Cod appears !
A God, a God! the vocal hills reply ;
The rocks proclaim th' approaching Deity.
Lo, earth receives Him from the bending skies!
Sink down, ye mountains; and, ye vallies, rise!
With heads declin'd, ye cedars, homage pay ;
Be smooth, ye rocks; se rapid floods, give wa
The Saviour comes! by ancient bards foretold
ficar Him, ye deaf! arrd, all ye blind, behold!
He from thick films shall purge the visual ray
And on the fightless eye-ball pour the day :

l'is He th' obstructed paths of found thall clea,
And bid new music charm ch'uofolding ear :
The dumb fall fing, the lame dis crutch free
And teep ex ul.ing like the bounding rce.

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No figh, no murmur the wide world fall hear ;
From ev'ry face He wipes off ev'ry tear..
In adamantine chains shall Death be bound,
And Hell's grim Tyrant feel th' eternal wound,
As the good shepherd tends his fleecy care,
Seeks freshest pasture, and the purest air,
Explores the loft, the wandring sheep directs,
By day o'ersees them, and by night protects;
The tender lambs he raises in his arms,
Feeds from his hand, and in his bosom warms;
Thus shall mankind His guardian care engage,
The promis'd Father of a future age.
No more shall nation against nation rise, -
Nor ardent warriors meet with hateful eyes,
Nor fields with gleaming steel be cover'd o'er,
The brazen trumpet kindle rage no more;
But useless lances into fithes shall bend,
And the broad falchion in a ploughshare end."
Then palaces thall rise ; the joyful fon
Shall finish what his short-liv'd fire begun;
Their vines a shadow to their race shall yield,
And the same hand that sow'd, lhall reap the field.
The swain in barren deserts with surprise
Sees lilies spring, and sudden verdure rise;
And starts, amidit the thirsty wilds to hear
New falls of water murmur in his ear.
On rifted rocks, the dragons' late abodes,
The green reed trembles, and the bulrush nods;
Waste sandy vallieś, once perplex'd with thorn,
The spiry fir and shapely box adorn ;
To leafless shrubs the flow’ring palms succeed,
And od’rous nyrtle to the noisome weed.

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