On the bare earth exposed he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes. The various turns of chance below; CHORUS. Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; The mighty master smiled to see Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause: So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause. The Prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair, Who caused his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again. At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast. CHORUS. The Prince, unable to conceal his pain, Who caused his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, At length with love and wine at once oppress'd, Now strike the golden lyre again : A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. 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! 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 Behold how they toss their torches on high, And the King seized a flambeau, with zeal to destroy: To light him to his prey; And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. CHORUS. And the King seized a flambeau, with zeal to To light him to his prey; [destroy: And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. Thus long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd 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, [fore. With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown be Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown; He raised a mortal to the skies, She drew an angel down. GRAND CHORUS. At last divine Cecilia came, |