There was tumult in the crowded strait, With their pikes and massy clubs they brake And the war-horse dash'd to the reddening lake The field-but not of sheaves- Strewn o'er it thick as the birch-wood leaves, Oh! the sun in heaven fierce havoc view'd, And the leader of the war At eve unhelm'd was seen, With a hurrying step on the wilds afar, But the sons of the land which the freeman tills, To their cabin homes 'midst the deep green hills, There were songs and festal fires ODE FOR MUSIC ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY. ALEXANDER POPE. [Alexander Pope was born in Lombard-street, London, where his father carried on business as a linen-draper, in 1688. Both his parents being Roman Catholics, he was placed at the age of eight under the care of one Taverner, a priest, who taught him the rudiments of Greek and Latin. At the age of twelve he removed with his parents to Binfield, in Windsor Forest; and about the same time he wrote his Ode on Solitude," a most remarkable production for so young a genius. Here he studied Waller, Spenser, and Dryden, and at the age of sixteen wrote his "Pastorals," which attracted the attention of the leading wits of the time. His "Essay on Criticism" was published in 1711, and the "Messiah" appeared on the 1st of September in the same year. This was followed by the "Ode to St. Cecilia's Day," which appeared originally in "The Spectator." About the same time he wrote "The Rape of the Lock." After bringing out "Abelard and Eloisa," "The Temple of Fame." and "Windsor Forest," he undertook the translation of the "Iliad," which he published by subscription, and netted above 5,000l. With a part of this he purchased his house at Twickenham, so long after fondly recognised as "Pope's Villa." On the completion of the "Iliad" he undertook the " Odyssey; " but a spice of commercial enterprise was mixed up with his literary labours, for he not only got it subscribed to liberally, but he employed other learned men (among them Broome, Fenton and Parnell), to assist him in his work. In 1729 he published his great ethical epic, the "Essay on Man." In 1737 he printed his "Letters" by subscription, and made money by them, but the publication was against all the tenets of literary honour and gentlemanly breeding. At the time of his death he was engaged in preparing a complete edition of his works. He died May 30th, 1744, aged 56.] DESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing: The shrill echoes rebound: While, in more lengthened notes and slow, Now louder, and yet louder rise, And fill with spreading sounds the skies, Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes, And melt away, In a dying, dying fall. By music, minds an equal temper know, Warriors she fires with animated sounds; Morpheus rouses from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes, Intestine war no more our passions wage, But when our country's cause provokes to arms, So when the first bold vessel dar'd the seas, And when through all the infernal bounds, What sounds were heard, What scenes appear'd, O'er all the dreary coasts! Dismal screams, Fires that glow, Shrieks of woe, Sullen moans, Hollow groans, And cries of tortured ghosts! Thy stone, O Sisyphus, stand still, And the pale spectres dance! And snakes uncurl'd hang listening round their heads. By the streams that ever flow, By those happy souls who dwell Thus song could prevail A conquest how hard and how glorious! With Styx nine times round her, Yet music and love were victorious. But soon, too soon, the lover turns his eyes: Beside the falls of fountains, Or where Hebrus wanders, Unheard, unknown, Amidst Rhodope's snows: See, wild as the winds, o'er the desert he flies; Hark! Hamus resounds with the Bacchanals' cries Ah see, he dies! Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he sung; Eurydice still trembled on his tongue: Eurydice the rocks and hollow mountains rung. And Fate's severest rage disarm; Music can soften pain to ease, And make despair and madness please: And antedate the bliss above. This the divine Cecilia found, And to her Maker's praise confined the sound ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. JOHN DRYDEN. [Dryden was born at Aldwinkle, Northampton, in 1631. He was educated at Winchester School and Trinity College, Cambridge. He came to London in 1654, and acted as secretary to his relation, Sir Gilbert Pickering, who was one of Cromwell's council. Like the celebrated Vicar of Bray, Dryden shifted his politics in conformity with the ins and outs of that stirring period; he wrote a laudatory ode on the death of the Protector, and a panegyric on the restoration of Charles II. In 1667 he was appointed poet-laureate, with a salary of 2007. a year. None of his plays have kept the stage, but his translation of Virgil is undying, and has immortalized him. On the accession of James II. he became a Roman Catholic, and, like all perverts, was loudest in the abuse of his old faith. It was not until the abdication of James, when he was obliged to write for bread, that his finest compositions were written. He died in 1700, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.] "TWAS at the royal feast, for Persia won, The god-like hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound: The lovely Thais by his side Sat, like a blooming eastern bride, None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The song began from Jove; A dragon's fiery form belied the god : * * * * * And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world. A present deity! they shout around: A present deity! the vaulted roofs rebound. |