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her thunder aim'd at his aspiring head, and fain her godlike sons would disunite by foreign gold, or by domestic spite: but strives in vain to conquer or divide,
whom Nassau's arms defend and counsels guide. Fir'd with the name, which I so oft have found the distant climes and different tongues resound, I bridle-in my struggling muse with pain, that longs to launch into a bolder strain.
But I've already troubled you too long, nor dare attempt a more adventurous song. My humble verse demands a softer theme, a painted meadow, or a purling stream; unfit for heroes: whom immortal lays, and lines like Virgil's or like your's, should praise.
COWLEY'S EPITAPH ON HIMSELF.
From life's superfluous cares enlarg'd
oh wish that earth may lightly lay,
and every care be fair away;
bring flowers; the short-liv'd roses bring,
and sweets around the poet strow,
AN ODE FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY.
Performed at Oxford 1699.
1 Prepare the hallow'd strain, my Muse,
thy softest sounds and sweetest numbers chuşe; the bright Cecilia's praise rehearse,
in warbling words, and gliding verse,
that smoothly run into a song,
and gently die away, and melt upon the tongue.
2 First let the sprightly violin
the joyful melody begin,
And none of all her strings be mute,
soften'd and mellow'd by the flute.
"till she partake her lover's smart.”
3 Next, let the solemn organ join
"descend with kind surprize,
"and meet our pious harmony half-way." 4 Let then the trumpet's piercing sound our ravish'd ears with pleasure wound. the soul o'er powering with delight,
as, with a quick uncommon ray,
*The four last lines of the second and third stanzas were added by Mr. Tate.
AN ODE FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY. Addison.
a streak of lightning clears the day,
5 Such were the tuneful notes that hung
and with devotion burn'd.
6 And now the choir compleat rejoices,
and works with mingled melody:
1 The spacious firmament on high, with all the blue ethereal sky,
and spangled heavens, a shining frame, their greal original proclaim.
Th' unweary'd sun, from day to day, does his Creator's power display; and publishes, to every land, the work of an Almighty hand. 2 Soon as the evening shades prevail, the moon takes up the wonderous tale; and nightly, to the listening earth, repeats the story of her birth:
whilst all the stars that round her burn, and all the planets, in their turn, confirm the tidings as they roll, and spread the truth from pole to pole. 3 What tho', in solemn silence, all move round the dark terrestrial ball; what tho', no real voice, nor sound, amidst their radiant orbs be found: in Reason's ear they all rejoice, and utter forth a glorious voice; for ever singing as they shine, the hand that made us is divine.
1 When all thy mercies, O my God,
transported with the view, I'm lost
2 O how shall words with equal warmth the gratitude declare,
that glows within my ravish'd heart!
3 Thy Providence my life sustain'd,
4 To all my weak complaints and cries,
ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt
5 Unnumber'd comforts to my soul
thine arm unseen convey'd me safe,
Through hidden dangers, toils, and death,
and through the pleasing snares of vice,
8 When worn with sickness, oft hast thou
9 Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss
and in a kind and faithful friend