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An ODE,
TO
Mr. HANDEL.
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[Price Six-pence.]
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An ODE,
TO
Mr. HANDEL.
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Τω γαρ
οντι το πρωτον
αυτης και
καλλιστον
εργον η εις
τους Θεους
ευχαριστος εστιν
αμοιβη,
επομενον δε
τουτω και
δευτερον το της
ψυχης
καθαρσιον και εμμελες,
και
εναρμονιον
συστημα.
PLUT.
περι Μουσικης. |
O decus Phoebi & dapibus supremi Grata testudo Jovis: o laborum Dulce lenimen! HOR. |
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[woodcut: Tully’s Head]
LONDON:
Printed for R. DODSLEY at Tully’s Head in Pall-mall.
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M.DCC.XLV.
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THE measure of the following Ode was first us’d by
MILTON, since whom I do not know of any Poet who has adopted it. It was chosen as admitting of a greater variety
of modulation than any other of the same extent; as well as for the liberty it
carries with it in being disengag’d from Rhyme.
Our Lyric Poetry has been almost universally subject to that inconvenience, tho’ of all kinds it demands the most free and unconfin’d versification. I don’t remember that Mr. CONGREVE who wrote an Essay on the Pindaric manner, prefix’d to a specimen of it, has taken notice of this defect, which our COWLEY and others so evidently labour under. It might be certainly excusable to conclude the contrary, since he has himself fall’n into it in the very Ode annex’d. The great Author abovemention’d, who had so happily form’d himself on the antients, as to unite almost all their separate excellencies, was in the most eminent degree a master of the force [{vi}] of Numbers ---- Of this the Sampson Agonistes, admirable as it is in many other respects, is a most compleat instance. That exact imitation of the Graecian model was one of his last productions; and, though the subject of it is not the most Dramatical, may give a very perfect idea of the Athenian Stage. The songs of the Chorus are labour’d with so critical a niceness, that there is scarce a Mode of Metre in use amongst their Tragedians, of which it does not afford an example. All the different kinds of Stanza that are to be found in our first Poets, were borrow’d like their Tales and Allegories, from the Italians and French ---- Perhaps it may be doubted whether any one of them before MILTON, however full of genius and invention, was capable of executing an attempt of this nature. ---- Johnson, tho’ he had in general an haughty contempt for the moderns, was himself a meer modern in this particular. ---- The design was reserv’d for one, who was every way qualified to undertake it; and we may venture to pronounce, that, had he applied himself to Lyric Poetry, he would have had as few rivals in that as in the Epic. [7]
[woodcut: Apollo] ODE TO Mr. HANDEL. WHILE you, great Author of the sacred song, With sounds seraphic join the seraph host, Who, wond’ring with delight, Hear numbers like their own, And hail the kindred lay; forgive the Muse, That in unhallow’d, humble measure strives With them to
praise, with them Too impotent to sing: [8] Yet her’s the task to form the myrtle
wreath, And twine the vernal treasures of the grove, Whose mingling
honours crown The fav’rites of the Nine. For thee, most favour’d of the sacred train, The choicest flow’rs shall breathe, for thee
the bloom Whose beauty longest
boasts The freshness of
the spring: Whether by thee the rural reed inspir’d, And wak’d to blythe simplicity, beguiles The labour’d
shepherd’s toil In soft Sicilian strain, Sweet’ning the stillness of the grove, whose
shades Fond fancy paints enlivened by the lay; Or whether taught
the flow Of some smooth-gliding stream, [9] The melting flute in liquid warbles sooths, And feigns to bubble, tuneful to the tale Of ACIS, injur’d
boy, Chang’d to a murm’ring rill: Or, kindling courage in the glowing breast, The voice of Battle breathes the big alarm, The Trumpet’s
clangor fills, And thunders in the Drum. Or mid’ the magic of successive sounds, That rule alternate passions as they rise, Again TIMOTHEUS
lives, Again the victor
yields To sacred Melody: while those sweet gales That breathe fresh odours o’er Elysian
glades, And amaranthine
bow’rs (Where now the golden harps [10] Of blissfull bards are strung) the numbers
waft To DRYDEN’s laurel’d shade; he yet more
blest, Smiles, conscious
of the charms Of heav’n-born Harmony, That prove the pow’r he sings, and grace the
song: Nigh whom, supreme amidst the tuneful train, In lovely
greatness shines The Bard, who fearless sprung Beyond the golden sphere that girts the
world, And sung embattled Angels: He too hears Enchanting
accents, him Delights the lovely lay, Responsive to his own; in pensive thoughtVer. 53 Now lowly languid to the lulling lute, That suits the
Cypress Queen And makes deep sadness sweet; [11] Or to the plaintive warbles of the wood,Ver. 57 Whose wanton measure, in the gentle flow Of soft’ned
notes, returns Wild echoes to the strain. But hark! the Dryad MIRTH with cheering hornVer. 61 Invites her mountain-sister to the chace, The jocund
rebecks join The merriment of MAY That to the tabor trips, and treads the
round Of rustic measures to the sprightly pipe, Mingled with
merry peals That fill the festal joy. But O!
great master of ten thousand sounds, That rend the concave in exulting song, And round anointed
Kings In shouting Paeans roll: [12] Master of high Hosannahs, that proclaimVer. 73 In pomp of Martial Praise the GOD of HOSTS, Who treads to
dust the foe, And conquers with
the sling: O!
taught the deep solemnity of grief,Ver.
77 That swells the sullen slowness of the
trump, And gives the
gentler woe Of soothing flutes to join In sweet response the thunder of the field: What breath divine first blending with thy
soul, Infus’d this
sacred force Of magic Melody, Nor here confin’d? for higher yet the strain, That suits thy Lay, mellifluous AMBROSE,
rais’dVer. 86 To mighty shouts
return’d By hymning Hierarchies,Ver. 88
[13] Who sound thrice
Holy! round the saphire throne In solemn jubily;
the strain that fills With force of pleasing dread The seraphs awful blast, ’Till fervent Faith and smiling Hope behold The dawn of endless day: or speaks the GOD Whose Vengeance
widely spreads The Darkness
palpable, And kindles half the storm, with thunder
hail, Hail mixt with Fire; divides the deep Abyss, And to the vast
profound The horse and rider hurls;Ver. 100 Tremendous theme of song! the theme of love And melting mercy HE, when sung to strains, Which from
prophetic lips Touch’d with ethereal fire, [14] Breath’d balmy Peace, yet breathing in the
charm Of healing sounds; fit prelude to the pomp102-106 Of choral energy, Whose lofty
accents rise To speak MESSIAH’s names; the God of Might, The Wond’rous and the Wise — the Prince of
Peace. Him, feeder of
the flock And leader of the lambs, The tuneful tenderness of trilling notes Symphonious speaks: Him pious pity paints In mournful
melody The man of
sorrows; grief Sits heavy on his soul, and bitterness Fills deep his deadly draught ----- He deigns to die --- The God who conquers Death, When, bursting from
the Grave,106-120 [15] Mighty he mounts, and wing’d with rapid
winds, Thro’ Heav’ns wide portals opening to their
Lord, To boundless
realms return’d, The King of Glory reigns. Pow’rs, dominations, thrones resound HE
REIGNS, High Hallelujahs of empyreal hosts, And pealing
Praises join The thunder of the spheres. But whither Fancy wafts thy wanton wing, That trembles in the flight? oh!
whither stretch’d Pursues the lofty lay, Worthy the Master’s name, Whose Music yet in airy murmurs plays And vibrates on the ear? ---- Preserve, ye gales, Wrapt in the sweet’ned breeze, Each dying note: Ye winds, [16] Be hush’d, while yet the sacred numbers live. But hence! with ideot leer, thou dim-ey’d form Of Folly, taught to list In shew of senseless glee To empty trills, enervate languishment And mimic’ry of sounds: hence! blast of Hell, That lov’st, with venom’d breath, To taint the ripening bloom That merit boasts; thee, Envy, black Despair, Thee kindred fiends to native realms recall, There dart the livid glance, And howling bite the chain. FINIS. |
Ver. 53. See Il Penseroso set to Music by Mr. Handel.
Ver. 57. Alluding to the Song, Sweet Bird, &c.
Ver. 61. See L’Allegro.
Ver. 73. See the Epinicion in Saul.
Ver. 77. Alluding to the Dead March in Saul.
Ver. 86. St. Ambrose, stiled Doctor Mellifluus.
Ver. 88. Alluding to the symphony of the words We believe that thou shalt
come to be our Judge, in the new Te Deum.
Ver. 100. See the Oratorio of Israel in Egypt.
Ver. 102-106. See
the sacred Oratorio of Messiah, Part I.
Ver. 106-120. See Messiah. Part
II.