Achitophel, grown weary to possess Of listening crowds with jealousies and fears For, governed by the moon, the giddy Jews By natural instinct they change their lord. 200 205 210 215 ZIMRI SOME of their chiefs were princes of the land: In the first rank of these did Zimri stand; A man so various, that he seemed to be Not one, but all mankind's epitome; 543 Was everything by starts, and nothing long; But, in the course of one revolving moon, 550 Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon; Then all for women, painting, riming, drinking, With something new to wish, or to enjoy! That every man with him was God or devil. In squandering wealth was his peculiar art; 560 Nothing went unrewarded but desert. Beggared by fools, whom still he found too late; He had his jest, and they had his estate. He laughed himself from court; then sought relief Thus, wicked but in will, of means bereft, BARZILLAI In this short file Barzillai first appears; Barzillai, crowned with honour and with years. 820 In regions waste beyond the Jordan's flood: Unfortunately brave to buoy the state; 825 830 His eldest hope, with every grace adorned, By me, so heaven will have it, always mourned, And always honoured, snatched in manhood's prime By unequal fates, and providence's crime: Yet not before the goal of honour won, 835 All parts fulfilled of subject and of son: Swift was the race, but short the time to run. Oh narrow circle, but of power divine, Scanted in space, and perfect in thy line! By sea, by land, thy matchless worth was known, 840 845 And durst not trust thy fortune and thy mind. 850 Now, free from earth, thy disencumbered soul Mounts up, and leaves behind the clouds and starry pole: From thence thy kindred legions may'st thou bring, To aid the guardian angel of thy king. Here stop, my muse; here cease thy painful flight; 855 No pinions can pursue immortal height: Tell good Barzillai thou canst sing no more, And tell thy soul she should have fled before: Or fled she with his life, and left this verse To hang on her departed patron's hearse? 860 Now take thy steepy flight from heaven, and see If thou canst find on earth another he: Another he would be too hard to find; See then whom thou canst see not far behind. 5 A SONG FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY 1687 I FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, "Arise, ye more than dead." Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry, In order to their stations leap, And Music's power obey. From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began; From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, II What passion cannot music raise and quell? To worship that celestial sound: Less than a God they thought there could not dwell That spoke so sweetly, and so well. What passion cannot music raise and quell? III The trumpet's loud clangour Excites us to arms, With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double, double, double beat Of the thundering drum, Cries, hark! the foes come: Charge, charge! 'tis too late to retreat. ΙΟ 15. 20 25 30 |