SELECTED POETRY.

THE CURE OF SAUL.

A SACRED ODE.

THE following Ode was published in 1763, and afterwards set to musick and performed as an Oratorio. The author was John Brown, a poet whose works are almost forgotten. In this ode he has attempted to express the various powers of that musick whereby the Israelitish shepherd charmed his unhappy prince. If it does not arise to the poetry and harmony of Dryden's St. Cecilia, it has, nevertheless, allowance being made for a few exceptions, no small degree of beauty and merit, and ranks with the most distinguisher ck compositions.

"VENGEANCE, arise from ta, infernal bed ;
"And pour thy tempest on his guilty head!"
This heaven's decree, in thunder's sound,
Shook the dark abyss profound.-

The unchained furies come!

Pale melancholy stalks from hell:
Th' abortive offspring of her womb,
Despair and Anguish round her yell.
By sleepless terror Saul possess'd,

Deep feels the fiend within his tortur'd breast.
Midnight spectres round him howl:

Before his eyes

In troops they rise;

And seas of horror overwhelm his soul.

Wake the solemn sounding air,

And lead the vocal choir :

On every string soft breathing raptures dwell,
To sooth the throbbings of the troubled breast :
Whose magick voice can bid the tides of passion swell
Or lull the raging storm to rest.

Sunk on his couch, and loathing day,
The heaven-forsaken monarch lay;

To the sad couch the shepherd now drew near;
And, while th' obedient choir stood round,
Prepar❜d to catch the soul commanding sound,
He dropp'd a generous tear.

Thy pitying aid, O God impart !

For lo, thy poison'd arrows drink his heart!

The mighty song from chaos rose.Around his throne the formless atoms sleep, And drowsy darkness broods upon the deep-

Confusion, wake!

Bid the realms of chaos shake!

Rouse him from his dread repose!

Hark! loud discord breaks her chain : The hostile atoms clash with deaf'ning roar : Her hoarse voice thunders through the drear domain; And kindles every element to war.—

"Tumults, cease!

"Sink to peace!

"Let there be light!" th' Almighty said:

And lo, the radiant sun,

Flaming from his orient bed,

His endless course begun.

See, the twinkling pleiads rise :

Thy star, Orion, reddens in the skies:
While slow around the northern plain
Arcturus wheels his nightly wane.

Thy glories, too, refulgent moon, he sung
Thy mystick mazes, and thy changeful ray ;
O fairest of the starry throng!

Thy solemn orb of light

Guides the triumphant car of night O'er silver clouds, and sheds a softer day!

Ye planets, and each circling constellation,
In songs harmonious tell your generation !
Oh, while yon radiant seraph turns the spheres,
And on the steadfast pole star stands sublime;
Wheel your rounds

To heavenly sounds;

And sooth his song enchanted ears
With your celestial chime.

In dumb surprise the list'ning monarch lay;
(His woe suspended by sweet musick's sway!)
And awe struck, with uplifted eye

Mus'd on the new born wonders of the sky.

Lead the soothing verse along :

He feels, he feels the power of sang

Ocean hastens to his bed:

The lab'ring mountain rears his rock encumber'd head‹ Down his steep and shaggy side

The torrent rolls his thundering tide:

Then smooth and clear, along the fertile plain
Winds his majestick waters to the distant main,
Flocks and herds the hills adorn :

The lark, high soaring, hails the morn.
And while along yon crimson clouded steep
The slow sun steals into the golden deep,
Hark! the solemn Nightingale
Warbles to the woodland dale.
See, descending angels shower

Heaven's own bliss on Eden's bower:
Peace on nature's lap reposes;
Pleasure strews her guiltless roses :
Joys divine in circles move,

Link'd with innocence and love.
Hail, happy love, with innocence combin❜d!
All hail, ye sinless parents of mankind

They paus'd :—the monarch, prostrate on his beď,
Submissive bow'd his head;

Ador'd the works of boundless power divine : Then, anguish-struck, he cried (and smote his breast) Why, why is peace the welcome guest

Of every heart but mine!

Now let the solemn numbers flow,
Till he feel that guilt is woe.

Heavenly harp, in mournful strain
O'er yon weeping bower complain :
What sounds of bitter pangs I hear !
What lamentations wound mine ear!
In vain, devoted pair, these tears ye
shed;
Peace with innocence is fled.
The messengers of grace depart :
Death glares, and shakes the dreadful dart!
Ah, whither fly ye, by yourselves abhorr'd,
To shun that frowning cherub's fiery sword!-
Lo!

Hapless, hapless pair.
Goaded by despair,

Forlorn, through desert climes they go!
Wake my lyre! can pity sleep

When heaven is mov'd, and angels weep!
Flow, ye melting numbers, flow

Till he feel that guilt is woe.

The king, with pride, and shame, and anguish torn, Shot fury from his eyes and scorn.

The glowing youth,

Bold in truth,

(So still should virtue guilty powers engage)
With brow undaunted met his rage.
See, his cheek kindles into generous fire;
Stern he bends him o'er his lyre;

And, while the doom of guilt he sings,
Shakes horror from the tortur'd strings.

The forked lightnings flash along the ground. Why yawns that deep'ning gulf below?— 'Tis for heaven's rebellious foe :

Fly, ye sons of Israel fly

Who dwells in Korah's guilty tent must die!
They sink-Have mercy, Lord! Their cries

In dreadful tumult rise!

Hark from the deep their loud laments I hear!

They lessen now, and lessen on the ear!

Now destruction's strife is o'er !