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: When he to fair Olympia pressed, world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound. Assumes the god, And seems to shake the spheres. CHORUS. With ravished ears, The monarch hears; And seems to shake the spheres. III. The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician sung; Now, give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes. Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; CHORUS. Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. IV. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain: And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise, and good, He sung And weltering in his blood: The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. CHORUS. Revolving, in his altered soul, The various turns of chance below; V. The mighty master smiled, to see Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, 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, Lovely Thais sits beside thee, The many rend the skies with loud applause; 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. CHORUS. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, VI. Now strike the golden lyre again; And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. See the snakes, that they rear, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, Behold how they toss their torches on high, And glittering temples of their hostile gods.- prey, 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. Thus, long ago, Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, Timotheus, to his breathing flute, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, With nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, |