Howe'er, to do you right, the prefent age
Breeds very hopeful monsters for the stage;
That scorn the paths their dull forefathers trod,
And won't be blockheads in the common road.
Do but furvey this crouded house to-night;
-Here's ftill encouragement for those that write.... Our author, to divert his friends to-day, Stocks with variety of fools his play; And that there may be fomething gay Two ladies-errant has expos'd to view; The first a damfel, travel'd in romance; The t'other more refin'd, fhe comes from France: Rescue, like courteous knights, the nymph from danger, And kindly treat, like well-bred men, the ftranger.
TO LANSDOWNE'S BRITISH ENCHANTERS.
'HEN Orpheus tun'd his lyre with pleasing woe,
Rivers forgot to run, and winds to blow,
While listening forests cover'd, as he play'd,
The foft musician in a moving fhade.
That this night's strains the fame fuccefs may find,
The force of mufic is to mufic join'd:
Where founding ftrings and artful voices fail,
The charming rod and mutter'd spells prevail.
Let fage Urganda wave the circling wand
On barren mountains, or a waste of sand;
The defert finiles; the woods begin to grow,
The birds to warble, and the springs to flow.
The fame dull fights in the same landskip mixt,
Scenes of still life, and points for ever fix'd,
A tedious pleasure on the mind bestow,
And pall the fenfe with one continued show :
But, as our two magicians try their skill,
The vifion varies, though the place stands still;
While the fame spot its gaudy form renews,
Shifting the profpect to a thoufand views.
Thus (without unity of place tranfgreft)
Th' enchanter turns the critic to a jest.
But howfoe'er, to please your wandering eyes,
Bright objects difappear and brighter rife:
There's none can make amends for loft delight,
While from that circle we divert your fight.
AN ODE FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
SET TO MUSICK BY MR. DANIEL PURCELL.
PERFORMED AT OXFORD 1699.
REPARE the hallow'd ftrain, my Mufe,
Thy fofteft founds and sweetest numbers chufe;
The bright Cecilia's praise rehearse,
In warbling words, and gliding verse,
That smoothly run into a fong,
And gently die away, and melt upon the tongue.
First let the sprightly violin
The joyful melody begin,
And none of all her ftrings be mute,
While the sharp found and shriller lay
In fweet harmonious notes decay,
Soften and mellow'd by the flute.
The flute that fweetly can complain,
"Diffolve the frozen nymph's difdain;
"Panting fympathy impart,
"Till the partake her lover's smart.”
CHOR U S.
Next, let the folemn organ join
Religious airs, and strains divine,
Such as may lift us to the fkies,
And fet all heaven before our eyes:
*The four laft lines of the fecond and third ftanza's
"Such as may lift us to the skies;
"So far at least till they
"Defcend with kind furprize,
"And meet our pious harmony half-way."
Let then the trumpet's piercing found
Our ravish'd ears with pleasure wound :
The foul o'er-powering with delight,
As, with a quick uncommon ray,
A streak of lightning clears the day,
And flashes on the fight.
Let echo too perform her part,
Prolonging every note with art,
And in a low expiring strain
Play all the concert o'er again.
Such were the tuneful notes that hung
On bright Cecilia's charming tongue:
Notes that facred heats infpir'd,
And with religious ardour fir'd:
The love-fick youth, that long fupprefs'd
His fmother'd paffion in his breast,
No fooner heard the warbling dame,
But, by the fecret influence turn'd,
He felt a new diviner flame,
And with devotion burn'd.
With ravish'd foul, and looks amaz'd,...
Upon her beauteous face he gaz'd;
Nor made his amorous complaint :
In vain her eyes his heart had charm'd,
Her heavenly voice her eyes difarm'd,
And chang'd the lover to a faint.
GRAND CHORUS.
AND now the choir compleat rejoices,
With trembling ftrings and melting voices,
The tuneful ferment rifes high,
And works with mingled melody:
Quick divifions run their rounds,
A thousand trills and quivering founds
In airy circles o'er us fly,
Till, wafted by a gentle breeze,
They faint and languifh by degrees,
And at a distance die.
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