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Lovely Thäis fits befide thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee.

The many rend the skies with loud applause;
So love was crown'd, but mufic won the cause.

The prince unable to conceal his pain,
Gaz'd on the fair

Who caus'd his care,

And figh'd and look'd, figh'd and look'd,
Sigh'd and look'd, and figh'd again:

At length, with love and wine at once opprefs'd,
The vanquish'd victor funk upon her breast.

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Now ftrike the golden lyre again;

Aud louder yet, and yet a louder ftrain.

Break his bands of fleep afunder,

And roufe him like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark, the horrid found

Has rais'd up his head;

As awak'd from the dead,

And amaz'd, he ftares around.

Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries,
See the furies arife,

See the faakes that they rear,

How they hifs in the air,

And the fparkles that flash from their eyes!

Behold a ghaftly band,,

Each a torch in his hand;

These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were flain,

And unburied remain

Inglorious on the plain;
Give the vengeance due
To the valiant crew:

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Behold how they tofs their torches on high,

How they point to the Perfian abodes,

And glitt❜ring temples of their hoftile gods!



The princes applaud, with a furious joy;

And the King feiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroy ;

Thäis led the way,

To light him to his prey,

And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy.

Thus, long ago,

Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow,

While organs yet were mute;

Timotheus to his breathing flute

And founding lyre,

Could fwell the foul to rage, or kindle soft defire.
At laft divine Cecilia eame,
Inventrefs of the vocal frame;
The fweet enthusiast, from her facred store,
Enlarg'd the former narrow bounds,

And added length to folemn founds,
With nature's mother wit, and arts unknown before.
Let old Timotheus yield the prize,

Or both divide the crown;

He rais'd a mortal to the skies;

She drew an angel down.




Ye nymphs! if e'er your eyes were red

With tears o'er haplefs fav'rites shed,

O fhare Maria's grief!

Her fav'rite, even in his cage,

(What will not hunger's cruel rage?)
Affaffin'd by a thief.



Where Rhenus ftrays his vines among,

The egg was laid from which he sprung,
And though by nature mute,'

Or only with a whistle blest,
Well-taught, he all the founds exprefs'd
Of flagelet or flute.

The honours of his ebon poll

Were brighter than the fleekeft mole;
His bofom of the hue

With which Aurora decks the skies,
When piping winds fhall foon arife
To fweep up all the dew.

Above, below, in all the houfe,
Dire foe, alike to bird and moufe,
No cat had leave to dwell;
And Bully's cage fupported ftood,
On props of fmootheft fhaven wood,
Large built and lattic'd well.

Well lattic'd--but the grate, alas!
Not rough with wire of steel or brass,
For Bully's plumage fake,


But fmooth with wands from Oufe's fide,.
With which, when neatly peel'd and dried,
The fwains their baskets make..

Night veil'd the pole. All feem'd fecure,
When led by inftinct fharp and fure,

Subfiftence to provide,

A beaft forth fallied on the fcout,

Long back'd, long-tail'd, with whisker'd fnout,

And badger colour'd hide.


He, ent'ring at the ftudy-door,
It's ample area 'gan explore;

And fomething in the wind

Conjectur'd, fnifing round and round,
Better than all the books he found,
Food, chiefly, for the mind.

Juft then, by adverfe fate imprefs'd,
A dream difturb'd poor Bully's reft;
In fleep he feem'd to view

A rat, fait clinging to his cage,
And, fcreaming at the fad presage,
Awoke and found it true.

For, aided both by ear and fcent,
Right to his mark the monfter went-
Ah, Mufe! forbear to speak

Minute the horrours that enfued;

His teeth were frong, the cage was wood-
He left poor Bully's beak.

He left it but he should have ta’en:
That beak, whence iffured many a strain
Of fuch mellifluous tone,

Might have repaid him well, I wote,
For filencing fo fweet a throat,
Faft fet within his own.

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