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MAC FLECKNOE

SHADWELL

ALL humane things are subject to decay,
And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey.
This Flecknoe found, who, like Augustus, young
Was call'd to empire and had govern'd long,
In prose and verse was owned without dispute
Through all the realms of Nonsense absolute.
This aged prince, now flourishing in peace
And blest with issue of a large increase,
Worn out with business, did at length debate
To settle the succession of the state;
And pond'ring which of all his sons was fit
To reign and wage immortal war with wit,

Cry'd, "'T is resolved, for Nature pleads that he
"Should onely rule who most resembles me.

"Shadwell alone my perfect image bears,

"Mature in dulness from his tender years;

"Shadwell alone of all my sons is he

"Who stands confirm'd in full stupidity.

"The rest to some faint meaning make pretence,
"But Shadwell never deviates into sense.
"Some beams of wit on other souls may fall,
"Strike through and make a lucid intervall;
"But Shadwell's genuine night admits no ray,
"His rising fogs prevail upon the day.
"Besides, his goodly fabrick fills the eye
"And seems designed for thoughtless majesty,
"Thoughtless as monarch oakes that shade the plain
"And, spread in solemn state, supinely reign.

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"Heywood and Shirley were but types of thee, "Thou last great prophet of tautology."

Here stopped the good old syre and wept for joy,

. In silent raptures of the hopeful boy.

All arguments, but most his plays, perswade

That for anointed dulness he was made.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC

A SONG IN HONOUR OF ST. CECILIA'S DAY: 1697

I

'T WAS at the royal feast for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son:

Aloft in awful state

The godlike hero sate

On his imperial throne;

His valiant peers were placed around;

Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound:

(So should desert in arms be crowned).

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The lovely Thais, by his side,

Sate like a blooming Eastern bride,

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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.

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Timotheus, 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,
Who left his blissful seats above,
(Such is the power of mighty love).

A dragon's fiery form belied the god:
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,
When he to fair Olympia pressed:

And while he sought her snowy breast,

Then round her slender waist he curled,

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And stamped an image of himself, a sovereign of the world.

The listening crowd admire the lofty sound,

A present deity, they shout around;

A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound:
With ravished ears

The monarch hears,

Assumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

CHORUS

With ravished ears

The monarch hears,

Assumes the god,

Affects to nod,

And seems to shake the spheres.

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The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung,

Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young.

The jolly god in triumph comes;

Sound the trumpets, beat the drums;
Flushed with a purple grace

He shows his honest face:

Now give the hautboys 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.

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Soothed 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.

The master saw the madness rise,

His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes;

And while he heaven and earth defied,

Changed his hand, and checked his pride.
He chose a mournful Muse,

Soft pity to infuse;

He sung Darius great and good,

By too severe a fate,

Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen,

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Fallen from his high estate,
And weltering in his blood;

Deserted at his utmost need
By those his former bounty fed;
On the bare earth exposed he lies,
With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcast looks the joyless victor sate,
Revolving in his altered soul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

CHORUS

Revolving in his altered soul

The various turns of chance below;
And, now and then, a sigh he stole,
And tears began to flow.

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The mighty master smiled to see
That love was in the next degree;
"T was but a kindred-sound to move,
For pity melts the mind to love.
Softly sweet, in Lydian measures,
Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.
War, he sung, is toil and trouble;
Honour but an empty bubble;

Never ending, still beginning,
Fighting still, and still destroying :
If the world be worth thy winning,
Think, O think it worth enjoying:

Lovely Thais sits beside thee,

Take the good the gods provide thee. The many rend the skies with loud applause;

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