Never ending, still beginning, Take the good the gods provide thee- 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. 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. 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! Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, 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 destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. Thus, long ago, VII. Ere heaving bellows learned to blow, And sounding lyre, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, 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. GRAND CHORUS At last divine Cecilia came, Or both divide the crown; UNDER MR. MILTON'S PICTURE Three poets, in three distant ages born, Matthew Prior 1664-1721 TO A CHILD OF QUALITY FIVE YEARS OLD. MDCCIV THE AUTHOR THEN FORTY (From Poems on Several Occasions, 1709) Lords, knights, and 'squires the numerous band, My pen among the rest I tɔok, Lest those bright eyes that cannot read Nor quality, nor reputation, Forbid me yet my flame to tell, Dear five years old befriends my passion, For, while she makes her silk-worm's beds, She may receive and own my flame, For though the strictest prudes should know it, Then, too, alas! when she shall tear And we shall still continue friends. For, as our different ages move, 'Tis so ordained, (would Fate but mend it!) That I shall be past making love, When she begins to comprehend it. A BETTER ANSWER Dear Chloe, how blubbered is that pretty face! Thy cheek all on fire, and thy hair all uncurled: Pr'ythee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaff says), Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world. How cans't thou presume, thou hast leave to destroy The beauties, which Venus but lent to thy keeping? Those looks were designed to inspire love and joy: More ordinary eyes may serve people for weeping. To be vexed at a trifle or two that I writ, Your judgment at once, and my passion you wrong: You take that for fact, which will scarce be found wit: Od's life! must one swear to the truth of a song? What I speak, my fair Chloe, and what I write, shows The difference there is betwixt nature and art: I court others in verse; but I love thee in prose: And they have my whimsies; but thou hast my |