Ode performed in the senate-house at Cambridge July 1, 1749 at installation of His Grace Thomas Holles Duke of Newcastle Chancellor of the University. By Mr. Mason. Set to music by Mr. Boyce, composer to His Majesty |
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 | Ode performed in the senate-house at Cambridge July 1, 1749 |  |
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ODE FOR MUSIC.
I.
Here all thy active fires diffuse,Thou genuin British Muse;
Hither descend from yonder orient sky,
Cloth'd in thy heav'n-wove robe of harmony.
Come, imperial queen of song;
Come with all that free-born grace,
Which lifts thee from the servile throng,
Who meanly mimic thy majestic pace;
That glance of dignity divine,
Which speaks thee of celestial line;
Proclaims thee inmate of the sky,
Daughter of Jove and Liberty.
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II.
The elevated soul, who feelsThy awful impulse, walks the fragrant ways
Of honest unpolluted praise:
He with impartial justice deals
The blooming chaplets of immortal lays:
He flys above ambition's low carreer;
And nobly thron'd in Truth's meridian sphere,
Thence, with a bold and heav'n-directed aim,
Full on fair Virtue's shrine he pours the rays of Fame.
III.
Goddess! thy piercing eye exploresThe radiant range of Beauty's stores,
The steep ascent of pine-clad hills,
The silver slope of falling rills;
Catches each lively-colour'd grace,
The crimson of the Wood-nymphs face,
The verdure of the velvet lawn,
The purple in the eastern dawn,
Or all those tints, which rang'd in vivid glow
Mark the bold sweep of the celestial bow.
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IV.
But chief she lifts her tuneful transports high,When to her intellectual eye
The mental beauties rise in moral dignity:
The sacred zeal for Freedom's cause,
That fires the glowing Patriot's breast;
The honest pride, that plumes the Hero's crest,
When for his country's aid the steel he draws;
Or that, the calm yet active heat,
With which mild Genius warms the Sages heart,
To lift fair Science to a loftier seat,
Or stretch to ampler bounds the wide domain of art.
These, the best blossoms of the virtuous mind,
She culls with taste refin'd;
From their ambrosial bloom
With bee-like skill she draws the rich perfume,
And blends the sweets they all convey
In the soft balm of her mellifluous lay.
V.
Is there a clime, where all these beauties riseIn one collected radiance to her Eyes?
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Glory's invigorating gales,
Her brightest beams where Emulation spreads,
Her kindliest dews where Science sheds,
Where ev'ry stream of Genius flows,
Where ev'ry flower of Virtue glows?
Thither the Muse exulting flies,
There she loudly cries—
All Hail, All hail,
Majestic GRANTA! hail thy awful name
Dear to the Muse, to Liberty, to Fame.
VI.
You too illustrious Train, she greetsWho first in these inspiring seats
Caught the bright beams of that ætherial fire,
Which now sublimely prompts you to aspire
To deeds of noblest note: whether to sheild
Your country's liberties, your country's laws;
Or in Religion's hallow'd cause
To hurl the shafts of reason, and to weild
Those heav'nly-temper'd arms whose rapid force
Arrests base Falshood in her impious course,
And drives rebellious Vice indignant from the field.
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VII.
And now she tunes her plausive songTo you her sage domestic throng;
Who here, at Learning's richest shrine,
Dispence to each ingenuous youth
The treasures of immortal truth,
And open Wisdom's golden mine.
Each youth inspir'd by your persuasive art,
Clasps the dear form of virtue to his heart;
And feels in his transported soul
Enthusiastic raptures roll,
Gen'rous as those the Sons of Cecrops caught
In hoar Lycæum's shades from Plato's fire-clad thought.
VIII.
O GRANTA! on thy happy plainStill may these Attic glories reign:
Still mayst thou keep thy wonted state
In unaffected grandeur great;
Great as at this illustrious hour,
When HE, whom GEORGE's well-weigh'd choice
And ALBION's gen'ral voice
Have lifted to the fairest heights of pow'r,
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The leader of thy learned line;
And bids the verdure of thy olive bough
Mid all his civic chaplets twine,
And add fresh glories to his honor'd brow.
IX.
Haste then, and amply o'er his headThe gracefull foliage spread;
Meanwhile the Muse shall snatch the trump of Fame,
And lift her swelling accents high,
To tell the World that PELHAM's name
Is dear to Learning as to Liberty.
The Muse shall snatch the trump of Fame,
And lift her swelling accents high,
To tell the world that PELHAM's name
Is dear to Learning as to Liberty.
And lift her swelling accents high,
To tell the world that PELHAM's name
Is dear to Learning as to Liberty.
FINIS.
| Ode performed in the senate-house at Cambridge July 1, 1749 | |