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Tragedy of BRUT US*.
CHORUS of ATHENIANS.
E fhades, where facred truth is fought;
Groves, where immortal Sages taught:
In vain your guiltless laurels ftood
War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
ANTIS TROPHE I
Oh heav'n-born fifters! fource of art!
Moral Truth, and mystic Song!
Altered from Shakespear by the Duke of Buckingham, at whofe defire thefe two Chorus's were composed to fupply as many, wanting in his play. They were fet many years afterwards by the famous Bononcini, and performed at Buckingham-houfe. P.
To what new clime, what distant sky, Forfaken, friendless, fhall ye fly?. Say, will ye blefs the bleak Atlantic shore? Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?
When Athens finks by fates unjust,
And Athens rifing near the pole !
ANTIS TROPHE II.
In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state!
Still, when the luft of tyrant power fucceeds,
CHORUS of Youths and Virgins.
H.Tyrant Love! haft thou poffeft
The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast? Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but foften us to feel thy flame:
Love's purer flames the Gods approve ;
Brutus for abfent Portia fighs,
And fterner Caffius melts at Junia's eyes.
A vapour fed from wild defire,
A wand'ring, felf-confuming fire.
And burn for ever one ;
Chafte as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
VER. 9. Why, Virtue, etc.] In allufion to that famous
conceit of Guarini,
"Se il peccare è sì dolce, etc.
Oh fource of ev'ry focial tye,
United wish, and mutual joy!
What various joys on one attend,
As fon, as father, brother, hufband, friend?
While thousand grateful thoughts arife;
Or meets his fpoufe's fonder eye;
Or views his fmiling progeny ;
What tender paffions take their turns,
His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
Hence guilty joys, diftaftes, furmizes,
Fires that fcorch, yet dare not fhine:
APPY the man, whofe wifh and care
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whofe fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire, Whose trees in fummer yield him shade, In winter fire.
Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years flide foft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,
Sound fleep by night; ftudy and ease,
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
Steal from the world, and not a ftone
Tell where I lie.
• This was a very early production of our Author, written at about twelve years old. P.