Break his bands of fleep afunder, 125 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 fnakes that they rear, How they hifs in their hair, 130 And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Behold a ghaftly band, Each a torch in his hand! 136 Those are Grecian ghofts, that in battle were flain, And unbury'd remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they tofs their torches on high, 141 How they point to the Perfian abodes, And glittering temples of their hoftile gods. 145 The princes applaud, with a furious joy; And the king feiz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy, 150 CHORUS. And the king feiz'd a flambeau with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. VII. Thus, long ago, 155 Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, Could fwell the foul to rage, or kindle foft de fire. At laft divine Cecilia came, Inventrefs of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from her facred store, 160 And added length to folemn founds, 165 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. 170 GRAND CHORUS. At laft, divine Cecilia came, 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 ; She drew an angel down. 176 180 Ver. 180. If Dryden had never written any thing but this Ode, his name would have been immortal, as would that of Gray, if he had never written any thing but his Bard. It is diffi cult to find new terms to exprefs our admiration of the variety, richness, and melody of its numbers; the force, beauty, and diftin&tnefs of its images; the fucceffion of fo many different paf fions and feelings; and the matchlefs perfpicuity of its diction. The fcene opens, in the first stanza, in an awful and auguft manner, The amours of Jupiter are defcribed in a majestic manuer in the fecond, with allufions to Alexander's being flattered with the idea of his being the fon of Jupiter and a god. But the fweet musician alters his tone in the third stanza to the praises of Bacchus, and the effects of wine; which inspiring the king with a kind of momentary phrenzy and pride, Timotheus fuddenly changes his hand, and in an air exquifitely pathetic, particularly the repetition of the words fallen, fallen, &c. fets before our eyes the fall and death of Darius, without a friend to attend him in his last moments. But the artift knowing how nearly allied Pity was to Love, reminds the hero of the prefence of his beautiful Thais, and describes minutely the effects of his paffion for her. He does not, however, fuffer him long to loiter in the lap of pleasure, but inftantly roufes him with deeper and louder notes, till he ftaring around, Eumenidum demens videt agmina, with their eyes full of indignation, and their hair crowded with hiffing ferpents, followed by a band of Grecian ghofts, who demand vengeance from their leader, toffing on high the torches they held in their hands, and pointing to the Perfian temples and palaces, urging him to destroy them with fire. Such is the unexampled combination of poetical beauties, of almost every fort, in which this justly admired Ode abounds. No particle of it can be wished away, but the epigrammatic turn of the four concluding lines. Dr. J. WARTON. VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS, PARAPHRASED. CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid The world's foundations firft were laid, Plenteous of grace, defcend from high, Rich in thy fevenfold energy! 'Thou ftrength of his Almighty hand, 5 10 15 Whofe power does heaven and earth command. Proceeding Spirit, our defence, Who do'ft the gifts of tongues difpenfe, 20 |