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But in your eyes, oh! there's the spell,
Who can see them, and not rebel :
You make us captives by your stay,
Yet kill us if you go away.






ILARENDON had law and sense,

Clifford was fierce and brave;
Bennet's grave look was a pretence,
And Danby's matchless impudence

Help'd to fupport the knave.
But Sunderland, Godolphin, Lory,
These will appear such chits in story,

'Twill turn all politics to jefts, To be repeated like John Dory,

When fidlers fing at fcafts. Protect us, mighty Providence,

What wou'd these madmen have ? First, they would bribe us without pence, Deceive us without common sense,

And without pow'r enslave.

Shall free-born men, in humble awe,

Submit to servile shame;
Who from consent and custom draw
The same right to be ruld by law,

Which kings pretend to reign?
The duke shall wield his conq'ring sword,

The chancellor make a speech,
The king shall pass his honest word,
The pawn'd revenue-sums afford,

And then, come kiss my breech.
So have I seen a king on chess

(His rooks and knights withdrawn, His queen

and bishops in distress) Shifting about, grow less and less,

With here and there a pawn.

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ROM harmony, from heav'nly harmony

This universal frame began :
When nature underneath a heap

Of jarring atoms lay,

And cou'd not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,

Arise, ye more than dead.
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,

And Music's power obey.
From harmony, from heav'nly harmony

This universal frame began :

From harmony to harmony Thro all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapafon closing full in Man.

What paffion cannot Music raise and quell!

Whèn Jubal struck the corded shell,
His liftning brethren stood around,
And, wond'ring, on their faces fell

To worship that celestial found.
Less than a God they thought there could not dwell

Within the hollow of that shell,

That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion cannot Music raise and quell ?


The trumpet's loud clangor

Excites us to arms,
With shrill notes of anger

And mortal alarms.
The double double double beat

Of the thund'ring drum
Cries, hark! the foes come ;
Charge, Charge, 'tis too late to retreat.

The soft complaining flute
In dying notes discovers

The woes of hopeless lovers,
Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.

Sharp violins proclaim
Their jealous pangs, and desperation,
Fury, frantic indignation,
Depth of pains, and height of passion,
For the fair, disdainful, dame.

But oh! what art can teach,

What human voice can reach,
The sacred organ's praise?
Notes inspiring holy love,
Notes that wing their heav'nly ways
To mend the choirs above.

Orpheus cou'd lead the favage race ;
And trees uprooted left their place,

Sequacious of the lyre :
But bright Cecilia rais’d the wonder higher :
When to her organ vocal breath was giv'n,
An angel heard, and straight appear'd

Miftaking earth for heav'n.

Grand CH ORU S.

As from the pow'r of sacred lays

The spberes began to move,

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