He sung Darius great and good, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, And weltering in his blood; Deserted, at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed: The various turns of chance below; The mighty master smiled, to see Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, War, he sung, is toil and trouble; 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, Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause; So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause. The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gazed on the fair Who caused his care And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again : At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast. Now strike the golden lyre again, A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, hark, the horrid sound And amazed, he stares around. See the snakes that they rear, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes! Each a torch in his hand! Those are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unburied remain Inglorious on the plain : Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy. Thus long ago, Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. Inventress of the vocal frame; The sweet enthusiast, from the sacred store, And added length to solemn sounds, Or both divide the crown; He raised a mortal to the skies; She drew an angel down. THE POSIE. By ROBERT BURNS. O LUVE will venture in where it daurna weel be seen, O luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been ; But I will down yon river rove, amang the fields sae green, An a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May. The primrose I will pu', the firstling of the year, And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear— For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a peer: And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view, The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair, The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller gray, The woodbine I will pu' when the evening star is near, And the diamond draps o' dew shall be her een sae clear; The violet's for modesty, which weel she fa's to wear: And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken bands o' luve, And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above, That to my latest draught o' life the band shall ne'er remove: And this will be a posie to my ain dear May. CHORUS FROM HELLAS. THE world's great age begins anew, The earth doth like a snake renew Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam A brighter Hellas rears its mountains A new Peneus rolls its fountains Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep A loftier Argo cleaves the main, O write no more the tale of Troy, If earth Death's scroll must be! Nor mix with Laian rage the joy Which dawns upon the free: Although a subtler sphinx renew Riddles of death Thebes never knew. Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, And leave, if nought so bright may live, Saturn and love their long repose Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers, O cease! must hate and death return? The world is weary of the past, SONNET. By SHAKSPERE. No longer mourn for me when I am dead, When I, perhaps, compounded am with clay, TO THE WILLOW TREE. By HERRICK, THOU art to all lost love the best, When once the lover's rose is dead, Then willow garlands 'bout the head, |