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And longer had she sung ;--but, with a frown,
Revenge impatient rose :
And, with a withering look,
The war-denouncing trumpet took,
And, ever and anon, he beat
The doubling drum, with furious heat; And, though sometimes, each dreary pause between,
Dejected Pity, at his side,
Her soul-subduing voice applied, Yet still he kept his wild unalter'd mien, While each strain'd ball of sight seem'd bursting from
Thy numbers, Jealousy, to nought were fix'd;
Sad proof of thy distressful state!
And now it courted Love, now raving calld on Hate.
With eyes up-ráis'd, as one inspir'd,
In notes by distance made more sweet,
And, dashing soft from rocks around,
Bubbling runnels join'd the sound; Through glades and glooms the mingled measure stole, Or, o'er some haunted streams, with fond delay,
Round an holy calm diffusing,
Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.
But O! how alter'd was its sprightlier tone
Her bow across her shoulder flung,
The hunter's call, to Faun and Dryad known.
Satyrs and Sylvan Boys were seen,
Peeping from forth their alleys green:
Last came Joy's ecstatic trial :
He with viny crown advancing,
They would have thought who heard the strain,
They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids, Amidst the festal sounding shades,
To some unwearied minstrel dancing, While, as his flying fingers kiss'd the strings,
Love fram’d with Mirth a gay fantastic round: Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; And he, amidst his frolic play,
As if he would the charming air repay, Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings,
O Music! sphere-descended maid,
Had more of strength, diviner rage,
ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
In a sadly-pleasing strain
Let the loud trumpet sound,
The shrill echos rebound:
Hark! the numbers soft and clear,
And fill with spreading sounds the skies :
Till, by degrees, remote and small,
The strains decay,
And melt away
By Music, minds an equal temper know,
Nor swell too high, nor sink too low. If in the breast tumultuous joys arise, Music her soft, assuasive voice applies ;
Or, when the soul is press'd with cares,
Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Melancholy lifts her head,
List'ning Envy drops her snakes;