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IRREGULAR ODE ON MUSIC.
CEASE, gentle sounds, nor kill me quite
A soft, a pleasing pain
What, what does the enchantment mean?
Now wild with fierce desire,
My breast is all on fire!
With melting ecstasy!
The distant trees forsake the wood,
To hear the heavenly sound;
The dryads leave the mountains,
The naiads quit the fountains,
See what soft harmony can do!
Till in a large collected mass they grew:
Apollo's harp unknown,
The deity alone.
PERFORMED AT THE CASTLE OF DUBLIN.
HARK-how the soul of Music reigns,
As when the first great birth of Nature sprung, When Chaos burst his massy chains,
'Twas thus the cherubs sung-
Shall British glories rise!
And lift her to the skies.
His lofty clarions roar;
The hostile Gallic shore.
· Mark-how his name with terror fills!
Where pallid treasons dwell;
And now she sinks to hell.
• Haste-let Ierne's harp be newly strung, And after mighty George be William sung. • Talk no more of Grecian glory, William stands the first in story: He, with British ardour glows:
See--the pride of Gallia fading!
Seė- the youthful warrior leading Britons vengeful to their foes! • Fair is the olive branch Hibernia boasts, Nor shall the din of war disturb her coasts; While Stanhope smiles, her sons are bless'd, In native loyalty confess'd!
• See-O see, thrice happy isle !
See what gracious George bestow'd ; Twice' have you seen a Stanhope smile,
These are gifts become a god! • How the grateful island glows!
Stanhope's name shall be revered; Whilst by subjects and by foes
Sacred George is loved and fear'd.
1 Earls of Chesterfield and Harrington, both saccessively Lords Lieutenants of Ireland.
· Like Persians to the rising sun,
Respectful homage pay;
Salute the glorious day!'
MORE glorious than the comet's blaze,
Ye deeds in distant
Of Hannibal, or Philip's son:
Or flatter'd hope presume to fly;
For laurels that can never die.
Through nations arm’d in dread array,
The bosom of the frighted sea. Could Greece, &c.
In vain, to shake the throne of Jove,
With impious rage the giants tried; 'Gainst Frederic's force the nations strove
In vain-their haughty legions died. Could Greece, &c. While prudence guides his chariot wheels,
Through virtue's sacred paths they roll; Immortal truth his bosom steels,
And guards him glorious to the goal.
In concert with her brave ally,
Where Gaul's detested lilies die. Wreaths of eternal friendship spring, 'Twixt mighty George and Prussia's king. The jocund bowl let Britons raise,
And crown the jovial board with mirth ; Fill-to great Frederic's length of days,
And hail the hero's glorious birthCould Greece or conquering Carthage sing A chieftain famed like Prussia's king!
COMPOSED FOR THE BIRTHDAY OF THE LATE
GENERAL LORD BLAKENEY.. The Muses' harps, by concord strung!
Loud let them strike the festal lay,
To hail her hero's natal day.