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O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
Then sadly say, with mutual pity mov'd,
"Oh may we never love as these have lov'd!"
From the full choir when loud hosannas rise,
And swell the pomp of dreadful sacrifice,
Amid that scene if some relenting eye
Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie,
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from Heav'n,
One human tear shall drop, and be forgiv'n.
And sure if Fate some future bard shall join
In sad similitude of griefs to mine,
Condemn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such if there be, who loves so long, so well,
et him our sad, our tender story tell:

The well-sung woes will sooth my pensive ghost;
le best can paint 'em who shall feel 'em most.

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TWO CHORUSES

TO THE TRAGEDY OF BRUTUS.

CHORUS OF ATHENIANS.

STROPHE I.

YE shades, where sacred truth is sought,
Groves, where immortal sages taught;
Where heav'nly visions Plato fir'd,
And Epicurus lay inspir'd!

In vain your guiltless laurels stood.
Unspotted long with human blood:

War, horrid war, your thoughtful walks invades,
And steel now glitters in the Muses' shade.

ANTISTROPHE I.

O heav'n-born Sisters! source of art!

Who charm the sense, or mend the heart;
Who lead fair Virtue's train along,
Moral Truth and mystic Song!

To what new clime, what distant sky,
Forsaken, friendless, shall ye fly?

Say, will ye bless the bleak Atlantic shore?
Or bid the furious Gaul be rude no more?

STROPHE II.

When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spura her dust;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to blush with strangers' gore:

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See Arts her savage sons control,
And Athens rising near the pole!:

Till some new tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears them from the land.

ANTISTROPHE II.

Ye Gods! what justice rules the ball?"
Freedom and Arts together fall;
Fools grant whate'er Ambition craves,.
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
Oh curs'd effects of civil hate,

In ev'ry age, in ev'ry state!

Still, when the lust of tyrant pow'r succeeds,'
Some Athens perishes, some Tully bleeds."

CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS.

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SEMICHORUS.

tyrant Love! hast thou possest

The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?

Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,

And arts but soften us to feel thy flame.
Love, soft intruder, enters here,
But ent'ring learns to be sincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,

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Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire
The mild and gen'rous breast?

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CHORUS.

Love's purer flames the gods approve;
The gods and Brutus bend to love:
Brutus for absent Porcia sighs,
And sterner Cassius melts at Junia's eyes.
What is loose love? a transient gust,
Spent in a sudden storm of lust,
A vapour fed from wild desire,
A wand'ring, self-consuming fire.
But Hymen's kinder flames unite,
And burn for ever one;

Chaste as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the sun.

SEMICHORUS.

Oh, source of ev'ry social tie,

United wish, and mutual joy!

What various joys on one attend,

As son, as father, brother, husband, friend!
Whether his hoary sire he spies,

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His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With rev'rence, hope, and love.

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CHORUS.

Hence guilty joys, distates, surmises,
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises,

Dangers, doubts, delays, surprises,

Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine. Purest love's unwasting treasure, Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure, Days of ease, and nights of pleasure;--Sacred Hymen! these are thine.

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