Or, when the foul is prefs'd with cares,
Exalts her in enliv'ning airs.

Warriors the fires with animated founds;

Pours balm into the bleeding lover's wounds:
Melancholy lifts her head,

Morpheus rouzes from his bed,

Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes,

Lift'ning Envy drops her fnakes ;

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Inteftine war no more our Paffions wage,
And giddy Factions hear away their rage.

III.

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But when our Country's cause provokes to Arms, How martial mufic ev'ry bofom warms!

So when the firft bold veffel dar'd the feas, High on the ftern the Thracian rais'd his ftrain,

While Argo faw her kindred trees

Defcend from Pelion to the main.

Tranfported demi-gods ftood round,
And men grew heroes at the found,

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Enflam'd with glory's charms :

Each chief his fev'nfold fhield difplay'd, 45 And half unsheath'd the shining blade:

And feas, and rocks, and skies rebound

To arms, to arms, to arms!

IV.

But when thro' all th' infernal bounds,
Which flaming Phlegeton furrounds,

Love, ftrong as Death, the Poet led
To the pale nations of the dead,

What founds were heard,

What scenes appear'd,

O'er all the dreary coafts!

Dreadful gleams,

Difmal fcreams,

Fires that glow,

Shrieks of woe,

Sullen moans,

Hollow groans,

And cries of tortur'd ghosts!

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But hark! he strikes the golden lyre;
And fee! the tortur'd ghofts refpire,

See, fhady forms advance !

Thy ftone, O Sifyphus, ftands ftill,
Ixion refts upon his wheel,

And the pale fpe&res dance!

The Furies fink upon their iron beds,

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And fnakes uncurl'd hang lift'ning round their

heads.

V.

By the streams that ever flow,
By the fragrant winds that blow
O'er the Elyfian flow'rs;
By those happy fouls who dwell
In yellow meads of Afphodel,

Or Amaranthine bow'rs;
By the hero's armed shades,
Glitt'ring thro' the gloomy glades;
By the youths that dy'd for love,
Wand'ring in the myrtle grove,

Restore, restore Eurydice to life:

Oh take the husband, or return the wife!

He fung, and hell confented

To hear the Poet's prayer:
Stern Proferpine relented,
And gave him back the fair.
Thus fong could prevail

O'er death, and o'er hell,

A conqueft how hard and how glorious!

Tho' fate had faft bound her

With Styx nine times round her,

Yet mufic and love were victorious.

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VI.

But foon, too foon, the lover turns his eyes:
Again the falls, again fhe dies, fhe dies!
How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move?

No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love.

Now under hanging mountains,

Befide the falls of fountains,

Or where Hebrus wanders,

Rolling in Mæanders,

All alone,

Unheard, unknown,
He makes his moan;

And calls her ghost,

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For ever, ever, ever loft!

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Now with Furies furrounded,

Defpairing, confounded,

He trembles, he glows,

Amidst Rhodope's fnows:

See, wild as the winds, o'er the defert he flies; 110 Hark! Hamus refounds with the Bacchanals cries-Ah fee, he dies!

Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he fung,

Eurydice ftill trembled on his tongue,

Eurydice the woods,

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Eurydice the floods,

Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountains rung.

VII.

Mufic the fierceft grief can charm,
And fate's feverest rage difarm:

Mufic can foften pain to ease,

And make despair and madness please :
Our joys below it can improve,

And antedate the blifs above.

This the divine Cecilia found,

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And to her Maker's praise confin'd the found.
When the full organ joins the tuneful quire, 126
Th' immortal pow'rs incline their ear;
Borne on the swelling notes our fouls aspire,
While folemn airs improve the facred fire;
And Angels lean from heav'n to hear.
Of Orpheus now no more let Poets tell,

To bright Cecilia greater pow'r is giv'n;

His numbers rais'd a fhade from hell,

Her's lift the foul to heav'n.

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