80

By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,
Fallen from his high estate,

And weltering in his blood:
Deserted, at his utmost need,
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,

With not a friend to close his eyes.
With downcast looks the joyless victor sate,
Revolving, in his altered soul,

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,

And tears began to flow.

85

CHORUS

Revolving, in his altered soul,

The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole,

And tears began to flow.

90

V

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

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,

95

100

105

Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures :
War, he sung, is 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 sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee —
The many rend the skies with loud applause;
So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause.
The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gazed on the fair,

Who caused his care,
And sighed and looked, sighed and looked,

Sighed and looked, and sighed again;
At length, with love and wine at once oppressed,
The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.

IIO

115

CHORUS

The prince, unable to conceal his pain,

Gazed on the fair,

Who caused his care,
And sighed and looked, sighed and looked,

Sighed and looked, and sighed again;
At length, with love and wine at once oppressed,
The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.

I 20

VI

130

Now strike the golden lyre again;
A louder yet, and yet a louder strain.
Break his bands of sleep asunder,

125 And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark! the horrid sound

Has raised up his head;

As awaked from the dead,

And amazed, he stares 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 ! 135

Behold a ghastly band,

Each a torch in his hand !
Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain,

And, unburied, remain
Inglorious on the plain :
Give the vengeance due

To the valiant crew.
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 furious joy, And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to de

stroy;

140

145

Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey, 150 And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.

CHORUS

And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy;

Thais led the way,

To light him to his prey,
And, like another Helen, fired another Troy.

VII

155

160

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,

Inventress of the vocal frame:
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.

165

170

GRAND CHORUS

175

At last divine Cecilia came,

Inventress of the vocal frame:
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.

180

SONG

From The Maiden Queen

I FEED a flame within, which so torments me,
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me:
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die, than once remove it.

Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it; 5
My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it.
Not a sigh, nor a tear, my pain discloses,
But they fall silently, like dew on roses.

Thus, to prevent my love from being cruel,
My heart's the sacrifice, as 'tis the fuel :