The Works of Alexander Pope (1717)/Two Chorus's to the Tragedy of Brutus, not yet publick

by Alexander Pope

 

Two Chorus's to the Tragedy of Brutus, not yet publick.

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Chorus of Athenians.

Strophe 1.
Ye shades, where sacred truth is sought;
Groves, where immortal Sages taught;
Where heav'nly visions Plato fir'd,
And godlike Zeno 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 shades.

Antistrophe 1.
Oh 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 2.
When Athens sinks by fates unjust,
When wild Barbarians spurn her dust;
Perhaps ev'n Britain's utmost shore
Shall cease to blush with stranger's gore,
See arts her savage sons controul,
An Athens rising near the pole!
Till some new Tyrant lifts his purple hand,
And civil madness tears them from the land.

Antistrophe 2.
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.

Semichorus.
Oh 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 entring learns to be sincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
Why, virtue, dost thou blame desire,
Which nature has imprest?
Why, nature, dost thou soonest fire
The mild and gen'rous breast?

Chorus.
Love's purer flames the Gods approve;
The Gods, and Brutus bend to love:
Brutus for absent Portia 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 wandring, self-consuming fire.
But Hymen's flames like stars unite;
And burn for ever one;
Chaste as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the Sun.

Semichorus.
Oh source of ev'ry social tye,
United wish, and mutual joy!
What various joys on one attend,
As son, as father, brother, husband, friend?
Whether his hoary fire he spies,
While thousand grateful thoughts arise;
Or meets his spouse's fonder eye;
Or views his smiling progeny;
What tender passions take their turns,
What home-felt raptures move?
His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With rev'rence, hope, and love.

Chorus.
Hence guilty joys, distastes, surmizes,
False oaths, false tears, deceits, disguises,
Dangers, doubts, delays, surprizes;
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.