With ravished ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god; Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young: The jolly god in triumph comes! Bacchus, ever fair and young, 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 He sung Darius great and good, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, The mighty master smiled to see 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 As awaked from the dead See the snakes that they rear Behold a ghastly band Each a torch in his hand! And unburied remain 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 furi ous joy: And the King seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy; 132 Thais led the way 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. At last divine Cecilia came, The sweet enthusiast from her sacred store Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown; He raised a mortal to the skies; She drew an angel down! DRYDEN. |