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Darkling and desperate, with a flagg'ring pace,
Of death afraid, and confcious of disgrace;
Fear, pride, remorfe, at once her heart affail'd,
Pride put remorfe to flight, but fear prevail'd.
Friday the fatal day, when next it came, 376
Her foul forethought the fiend would change his
game,

And her purfue, or Theodore be flain,

And two ghofts join their packs to hunt her o'er

the plain.

This dreadful image fo poffefs'd her mind,

That desperate any fuccour else to find,

She ceas'd all farther hope; and now began

To make reflexion on th' unhappy man.

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Rich, brave, and young, who past expreffion lov'd, Proof to disdain, and not to be remov'd:

Of all the men refpected and admir'd,

385

Of all the dames, except herself, defir'd:
Why not of her? preferr'd above the reft
By him with knightly deeds, and open love pro-
fefs'd?

So had another been, where he his vows addrefs'd.
This quell'd her pride, yet other doubts remain'd,
That, once difdaining, fhe might be difdain'd.
The fear was juft, but greater fear prevail'd,
Fear of her life by hellish hounds affail'd:
He took a low'ring leave; but who can tell 395
What outward hate might inward love conceal ?

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Her fex's arts she knew; and why not, then,
Might deep diffembling have a place in men?
Here hope began to dawn; refolv'd to try,
She fix'd on this her utmost remedy:
Death was behind, but hard it was to die.
'Twas time enough at last on death to call,
The precipice in fight: a fhrub was all,
That kindly stood betwixt to break the fatal fall.
One maid she had, belov'd above the reft: 405
Secure of her, the fecret fhe confefs'd;
And now the chearful light her fears dispell'd,
She with no winding turns the truth conceal'd,
But put the woman off, and stood reveal'd:
With faults confefs'd commiffion'd her to go, 410
If pity yet had place, and reconcile her foe;
The welcome meffage made, was foon receiv'd;
"Twas to be wish'd, and hop'd, but scarce believ'd;
Fate feem'd a fair occafion to present;

He knew the fex, and fear'd she might repent,
Should he delay the moment of consent.
There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care
The modefty of maidens well might spare);
But fhe with fuch a zeal the cause embrac'd,

(As women, where they will, are all in haste)
The father, mother, and the kin befide,

Were overborn by fury of the tide ;

With full consent of all the chang'd her state;
Refiftless in her love, as in her hate.

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By her example warn'd, the reft beware;
More easy, lefs imperious, were the fair;
And that one hunting, which the devil defign'd
For one fair female, loft him half the kind.

ALEXANDERS FEAST;

OR

THE POWER OF MUSIC;

AN ODE,

IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

BY THE SAME.

"TWAS

I.

WAS at the royal feaft, for Perfia won,

By Philips warlike fon:

Aloft in awful state

The godlike hero fate

On his imperial throne:

His valiant peers were plac'd around;

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:

(So should desert in arms be crown'd)

The lovely Thais, by his fide,

Sate like a blooming Eastern bride,
In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

5

10

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair. 15

CHORUS.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deferves the fair.

II.

Timotheus, plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:

The trembling notes afcend the sky,
And heavenly joys inspire.

The fong began from Jove,

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25

Who left his blissful seats above,

(Such is the power of mighty love)

A dragons fiery form bely'd the god:

Sublime on radiant spires he rode,

30

When he to fair Olympia prefs'd:
And while he fought her fnowy breaft:

Then, round her flender waist he curl'd,

And ftamp'd an image of himself, a fov'reign of

the world.

The lift'ning crowd admire the lofty found,
A prefent deity, they shout around :

A present deity the vaulted roofs rebound:

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The praise of Bacchus, then, the fweet musician fung; Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young:

The jolly god in triumph comes;

Sound the trumpets; beat the drums;
Flush'd with a purple grace,

He fhews his honeft face:

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Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.

Bacchus ever fair and young,

Drinking joys did first ordain;

Bacchus' bleffings are a treasure,
Drinking is the foldier's pleasure ;

Rich the treasure,
Sweet the pleasure ;
Sweet is pleasure after pain.

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