To be Sung after the Fourth Act.
Fourth CHORUS.
How great a Curse has Providence
Thought fit to cast on Human Kind!
Learning, Courage, Eloquence,
The gentlest Nature, noblest Mind,
Were intermix'd in one alone,
Yet in one Moment overthrown!
Could Chance, or senseless Atoms join
To form a Soul so great as his?
Or would those Pow'rs we hold Divine,
Destroy their own chief Master-piece?
Where so much Difficulty lyes,
The doubtful are the only wise.
And, what must more perplex our Thoughts;
Great Jove the best of Romans sends,
To do the very worst of Faults,
And kill the kindest of his Friends.
All this is far above our reach,
Whatever Priests presume to preach.
