Six Centuries of English Poetry Part 25

=Phineas Fletcher= (1582-1650). "The Locustes"; "The Purple Island."

=Giles Fletcher= (1588-1623). "Christ's Victory and Triumph."

=Thomas Carew= (1589-1639). Short poems; "Caelum Britannic.u.m."

=Francis Quarles= (1592-1644). "Divine Poems"; "Emblems, Divine and Moral."

=Robert Herrick= (1594-1674). See biographical note, page 202.

=Sir John Suckling= (1608-1642). Love poems.

=Richard Lovelace= (1618-1658). Short poems; "Lucasta: Odes, Sonnets, Songs," etc.

=Lord Herbert of Cherbury= (1581-1648). Odes and short poems.

=George Herbert= (1592-1634). "The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns"; short poems.

=George Sandys= (1577-1643). "Christ's Pa.s.sion."

=Richard Crashaw= (1615-1650). "Steps to the Altar."

=Henry Vaughan= (1621-1695). "Silex Scintillans"; "The Mount of Olives."

=Abraham Cowley= (1618-1667). "Poetical Blossomes"; "The Mistress."

=Edmund Waller= (1605-1687). See biographical note, page 205.

=Sir John Denham= (1615-1668). "Cooper's Hill."

=Sir William Davenant= (1605-1668). "Gondibert"; "Madagascar and Other Poems."

=John Milton= (1608-1674). See biographical note, page 195.

=Andrew Marvell= (1621-1678). Lyric and satiric poems.

=Samuel Butler= (1612-1680). "Hudibras."

=Thomas Otway= (1651-1685). "The Poet's Complaint of his Muse"; "Windsor Castle."

=John Dryden= (1631-1700). See biographical note, page 175.

John Dryden.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC:

AN ODE IN HONOR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY.

'Twas at the royal feast,{1} for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The G.o.dlike hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were placed around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:{2} (So should desert in arms be crowned.) The lovely Thais,{3} by his side, Sate like a blooming Eastern bride In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair.

_Chorus._

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair.

Timotheus,{4} placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touched the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove,{5} Who left his blissful seats above, (Such is the power of mighty love.) A dragon's fiery form belied the G.o.d: Sublime on radiant spires he rode.

The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity,{6} they shout around; A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, a.s.sumes the G.o.d, Affects to nod,{7} And seems to shake the spheres.

_Chorus._

With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, a.s.sumes the G.o.d, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.

The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician sung, Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young: The jolly G.o.d in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets; beat the drums; Flush'd with a purple grace, He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys{8} breath; he comes! he comes!

Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain.

_Chorus._

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain.

Sooth'd with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain.{9} The master saw the madness rise; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And, while he Heaven and Earth defied, Changed his hand, and check'd his pride.

He chose a mournful muse, Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius{10} great and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And welt'ring in his blood; Deserted at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed: On the bare earth expos'd he lies,{11} With not a friend to close his eyes.{12} With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole,{13} And tears began to flow.

_Chorus._

Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow.

The mighty master smil'd to see That love was in the next degree: 'Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the mind to love.{14} Softly sweet, in Lydian{15} measures, Soon he sooth'd his soul to pleasures.

War, he sung, is toil and trouble; Honor, but an empty bubble;{16} Never ending, still beginning, Fighting still, and still destroying; If the world be worth thy winning, Think, oh think it worth enjoying!

Lovely Thais sits beside thee, Take the good the G.o.ds provide thee.

The many{17} rend the air with loud applause; So Love was crown'd, but Music won the cause.

The prince, unable to conceal his pain, Gaz'd on the fair Who caus'd his care, And sigh'd and look'd,{18} sigh'd and look'd, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again; At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast.

_Chorus._

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, Sigh'd and look'd, and sigh'd again; At length, with love and wine at once oppress'd, The vanquish'd victor sunk upon her breast.

Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain.

Break his bands of sleep{19} asunder, And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder.

Hark, hark, the horrid sound Has raised up his head!