ALEXANDER'S FEAST. BY DRYDEN. "TWAS WAS at the royal feast, for Persia won, By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The god-like hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound: So should desert in arms be crown'd. The lovely Thaïs by his side Sat, like a blooming eastern bride, None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserve the fair. Timotheus plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The song began from Jove; Who left his blissful seats above, Such is the pow'r of mighty love! A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god: When he to fair Olympia press'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the world. The list'ning crowd admire the lofty sound; A present deity, they shout around: A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus, then, the sweet musician sung; The jolly god in triumph comes; He shows his honest face. Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus ever fair and young, Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise; Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate, Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, Fall'n from his high estate, And welt'ring in his blood: With downcast look the joyless victor sate, The various turns of fate below; And tears began to flow. The mighty master smil'd, to see Never ending, still beginning, Take the good the gods provide thee.- The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gaz'd on the fair Who caus'd his care, And sigh'd and look'd, sigh'd and look'd, At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And ronse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Hark, bark! the horrid sound As awak'd from the dead, And amaz'd, he stares around. See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair And the sparkles that flash from their eyes. Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand! These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain, And unbury'd remain, Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew: Behold how they toss their torches on high, How they point to the Persian abodes, The Princes applaud, with a furious joy; And the king seiz'd a flambeau, with zeal to destroy; Thais led the way, To light him to his prey, And, like another Helen, fir'd another Troy. Thus, long ago Ere heaving bellows learn'd to blow, While organs yet were mute; Timotheus to the breathing flute |