He ceas'd, and silent still remain'd the throng Whilst rapt attention own'd the power of song. Then loud as when the wintry whirlwinds blow From ev'ry voice the thundering plaudits flow; Darius smil'd, Apame's sparkling eyes Glanc'd on the King, and Woman won the prize. Now silent sat the expectant crowd, alone The victor Hebrew gaz'd not on the throne; With deeper hue his cheek distemper'd glows, With statelier stature, loftier now he rose; Heavenward he gaz'd, regardless of the throng, And pour'd with awful voice sublimer song. Ancient of Days! Eternal Truth! one hymn One holier strain the Bard shall raise to thee, Thee Powerful! Thee Benevolent! Thee Just! Friend! Father! All in All! the Vines rich blood, The Monarch's might, and Woman's conquering charms,-- These shall we praise alone? Oh ye who sit Beneath your vine, and quaff at evening hour The healthful bowl, remember him whose dews, Whose rains, whose sun, matur'd the growing fruit, Creator and Preserver! Reverence Him, O thou who from thy throne dispensest life And death, for He has delegated power. And thou shalt one day at the throne of God Render most strict account! O ye who gaze Enrapt on Beauty's fascinating form, Gaze on with love, and loving Beauty, learn To shun abhorrent all the mental eye Beholds deform'd and foul; for so shall Love Climb to the Source of Virtue. God of Truth! All-Just! All-Mighty! I should ill deserve Thy noblest gift, the gift divine of song, If, so content with ear-deep melodies [2] To please all profitless, I did not pour Severer strains; of Truth--eternal Truth, Unchanging Justice, universal Love. Such strains awake the soul to loftiest thoughts, Such strains the Blessed Spirits of the Good Waft, grateful incense, to the Halls of Heaven. The dying notes still murmur'd on the string, When from his throne arose the raptur'd King. About to speak he stood, and wav'd his hand, And all expectant sat the obedient band.