The many rend the skies with loud applause;
So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause.
The prince, unable to conceal his pain,
Gazed on the fair

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,

Gazed on the fair

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.

VI.

Now strike the golden lyre again;

A louder yet, and yet a louder strain.

Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark, the horrid sound

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

To the valiant crew.

Behold how they toss their torches on high,
How they point to the Persian abodes,

And glittering temples of their hostile gods.
The princes applaud with a furious joy;

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.

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,
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,

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,

Inventress of the vocal frame;

The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store,

Enlarged the former narrow bounds,

And added length to solemn sounds,

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.

MULGRAVE.

G

FOR MUSIC.

Performed at the funeral of Henry Purcell, the musician, in the end of November, 1695.

OOD angels snatched him eagerly on high,

Joyful they flew, singing and soaring, through the sky,

Teaching his new-fledged soul to fly ;

While we, alas ! lamenting lie.

He went musing all along,

Composing new their heavenly song:

Awhile his skilful notes loud hallelujahs drowned,

But soon they ceased their own, to catch his pleasing sound. David himself improved the harmony,

David, in sacred story so renowned

No less for music than for poetry!

Genius sublime in either art,

Crowned with applause surpassing all desert!

A man just after God's own heart!

If human cares are lawful to the blest

Already settled in eternal rest,

Needs must he wish that Purcell only might