An ODE On the Death of a Friend.
I.
Apollo
, God of Sounds and Verse,
Pathetick Airs and moving Thoughts inspire!
Whilst we thy Damon's Praise rehearse:
Damon himself cou'd animate the Lyre.
APOLLO, God of Sounds and Verse,
Pathetick Airs and moving Thoughts inspire!
Look down! and warm the Song with thy celestial Fire.
II.
Ah lovely Youth! when thou wert here,
Thyself a young Apollo did appear;
Young as that God, so sweet a Grace,
Such blooming Fragrance in thy Face;
So soft thy Air, thy Visage so serene,
That Harmony e'en in thy Look was seen.
III.
But when thou didst th'obedient Strings command,
And join in Consort thy melodious Hand,
E'en Fate it self, such wondrous Strains to hear,
Fate had been charm'd, had Fate an Ear.
But what does Musick's Skill avail?
When Orpheus did his Loss deplore,
Trees bow'd attentive to his Tale;
Hush'd were the Winds, wild Beasts forgot to roar;
But dear Eurydice came back no more.
IV.
Then cease, ye Sons of Harmony, to mourn;
Since Damon never can return.
See, see! he mounts, and cleaves the liquid Way!
Bright Choirs of Angels, on the Wing,
For the New Guest's Arrival stay,
And Hymns of Triumph sing.
They bear him to the happy Seats above,
Seats of eternal Harmony and Love;
Where artful Purcel went before.
Cease then, ye Sons of Musick, cease to mourn;
Your Damon never will return,
No, never, never more!
