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While in more lengthen'd notes and flow,
Gently steal upon the ear;
Now louder, and yet louder rife
And fill with spreading founds the skies; 15 Exulting in triumph now fwell the bold notes, In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats; "Till, by degrees, remote and small,
The ftrains decay,
And melt away,
In a dying, dying fall.
By Music, minds an equal temper know,
nautic expedition, where Orpheus gives the example of the use of Mufic to infpire the heroic paffions. The feventh and last conclude in praise of Mufic, and the advantages of the facred above the prophane.
VER. 7. Let the loud trumpet found, etc.] Our Author in his rules for good writing had faid, that the found fhould be an echo to the fenfe. The graces it adds to the harmony are obvious. But we fhould never have feen all the advantages arifing from this rule, had this ode not been written. In which, one may venture to fay, is found all the harmony that poetic found, when it comes in aid of fenfe, is capable of producing.
Or, when the foul is prefs'd with cares,
Warriors fhe fires with animated founds;
Morpheus rouzes from his bed,
Lift'ning Envy drops her fnakes; Intestine war no more our Paffions wage, And giddy Factions hear
away their rage.
But when our Country's caufe provokes to Arms, How martial mufic ev'ry bofom warms!
So when the first bold veffel dar'd the feas,
But when thro' all th' infernal bounds,
Love, ftrong as Death, the Poet led
O'er all the dreary coafts!
Fires that glow,
Shrieks of woe,
See, fhady forms advance!
And the pale spectres dance!
The Furies fink
By the ftreams that ever flow,
By thofe happy fouls who dwell
Or Amaranthine bow'rs;
He fung, and hell confented
To hear the Poet's
him back the fair.
O'er death, and o'er hell,
A conqueft how hard and how glorious?
With Styx nine times round her,
But foon, too foon, the lover turns his eyes:
How wilt thou now the fatal fifters move?
No crime was thine, if 'tis no crime to love. 95
Befide the falls of fountains,
Ah fee, he dies! Yet ev'n in death Eurydice he fung, Eurydice ftill trembled on his tongue,
He trembles, he glows,
Amidst Rhodope's fnows:
See, wild as the winds, o'er the defert he flies; Hark! Hamus refounds with the Bacchanals cries-