ON THE YOUNG STATESMAN. 1680. CLARENDON had law and sense, What would these madmen have? Shall free-born men, in humble awe, Who from consent and custom draw The Duke shall wield his conquering sword, The King shall pass his honest word, (His rooks and knights withdrawn, His queen and bishops in distress) Shifting about, grow less and less, With here and there a pawn. FOR ST. CECILIA'S DAY. 1687. FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, And could not heave her head, From harmony, from heavenly harmony, From harmony to harmony, Through all the compass of the notes it ran, What passion cannot Music raise and quell! To worship that celestial sound. 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; The double, double, double beat Cries, Hark! the foes come; 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, Notes inspiring holy love, Orpheus could lead the savage race, But bright Cecilia raised the wonder higher, GRAND CHORUS. As from the power of sacred lays The spheres began to move, And sung the great Creator's praise To all the bless'd above; 19. B B |