Then talk not of inconstancy,

False hearts, and broken vows;
If I, by miracle, can be

This live-long minute true to thee,
'Tis all that Heaven allows.

SIR CHARLES SEDLEY.

(1639-1701.).

TO CELIA.

Sedley's first publication, a comedy, appeared in 1668.

His works

were collected in 1702. There is no edition in this century. This song first appeared in A Collection of Poems by Several Hands, 1693.

NOT, Celia, that I juster am

Or better than the rest;

For I would change each hour, like them,

Were not my heart at rest.

But I am tied to very thee
By every thought I have;
Thy face I only care to see,
Thy heart I only crave.

All that in woman is adored
In thy dear self I find;

For the whole sex can but afford
The handsome and the kind

Why then should I seek further store,
And still make love anew?

When change itself can give no more,
'Tis easy to be true.

JOHN DRYDEN.

(1631-1700.)

The best edition of Dryden's Poetical Works is that of Mr. W. D. Christie (London, 1893), in which the "Songs, Odes, and Lyrical Pieces" occupy pages 367-384. Alexander's Feast was written in 1697, and the Song for St. Cecilia's Day just ten years earlier. The songs are from The Indian Emperor, 1665, from Edipus (by Dryden and Lee), 1679, and from King Arthur, 1691, respectively.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC.

A SONG IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY, 1697.

WAS at the royal feast for Persia won

'T WAS

By Philip's warlike son:

Aloft in awful state

The godlike hero sate

On his impartial throne;

His valiant peers were placed around;

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:
(So should desert in arms be crowned).

The lovely Thais, by his side,

Sate like a blooming Eastern bride,

In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Chorus.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave,

None but the brave,

None but the brave deserves the fair.

Timotheus, placed on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touched the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky,
And heavenly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove,
Who left his blissful seats above,
(Such is the power of mighty love).
A dragon's fiery form belied the god:
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,
When he to fair Olympia pressed;
And while he sought her snowy breast,
Then round her slender waist he curled,

And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound,

A present deity, they shout around;

A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound:
With ravished ears

The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

Chorus.

With ravished ears

The monarch hears,

Assumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung,
Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young,

The jolly god in triumph comes;
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;
Flushed with a purple grace

He shows his honest face:

Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.
Bacchus, ever fair and young,

Drinking joys did first ordain;

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure;
Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Chorus.

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure,
Drinking is the soldier's pleasure;
Rich the treasure,

Sweet the pleasure,

Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Soothed with the sound the king grew

Fought all his battles o'er again;

vain;

And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.

The master saw the madness rise,
His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;
And while he heaven and earth defied,

Changed his hand, and checked his pride.
He chose a mournful Muse,

Soft pity to infuse;

He sung Darius great and good,
By too severe a fate,
Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,

Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood;
Deserted at his utmost need
By those his former bounty fed,

On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcast looks the joyless victor sate,
Revolving in his altered soul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

Chorus.

Revolving in his altered soul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

The mighty master smiled to see
That love was in the next degree
'T was but a kindred-sound to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.

War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honour but an empty bubble;

Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying:

If the world be worth thy winning, Think, O think, it worth enjoying: Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

The

Take the goods the gods provide thee many rend the skies with loud applause, So Love was crowned, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair

Who caused his care,

And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, Sighed and looked, and sighed again;

At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, The vanquished victor sunk upon her breast.