Less than a God they thought there could not dwell That spoke so sweetly, and so well. III. The trumpet's loud clangour Excites us to arms, The double, double, double beat IV. The soft complaining flute, Whose dirge is whispered by the warbling lute. V. Sharp violins proclaim Their jealous pangs and desperation, Fury, frantic indignation, Depth of pains, and height of passion, VI. But, oh! what art can teach, What human voice can reach, The sacred organ's praise? Notes inspiring holy love, Notes that wend their heavenly ways VII. Orpheus could lead the savage race; But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher; GRAND CHORUS As from the power of sacred lays So when the last and dreadful hour ALEXANDER'S FEAST, OR THE POWER OF MUSIC; AN ODE IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 1697 I. 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft, in awful state, The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne. His valiant peers were placed around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound: (So should desert in arms be crowned.) The lovely Thais, by his side, Sate like a blooming eastern bride, In flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. CHORUS Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. II. Timotheus, placed on high With flying fingers touched the lyre: The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, And while he sought her snowy breast; Then, round her slender waist he curled, And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity! they shout around; A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound. The monarch hears; Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. CHORUS With ravished ears, And seems to shake the spheres. III. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung; The jolly god in triumph comes; He shows his honest face: Now, give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Drinking joys did first ordain; Sweet the pleasure, CHORUS Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. IV. 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 The master saw the madness rise, Soft pity to infuse, He sung Darius great and good, The various turns of chance below; CHORUS Revolving, in his altered soul, V. The mighty master smiled, to see Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, |