Musica Incantans: OR, The POWER of MUSIC.  
A POEM.  
Written Originally in Latin by Dr. SOUTH.  
TRANSLATED: With a PREFACE concerning the Natural Effects of MUSIC upon the Mind.  Semel insanivimus omnes. 
LONDON, Printed for William Turner, at the Angel at Lincolns-Inn Back Gate, and are to be Sold by john Nutt, near Stationer's-Hall, 1700.   

THE PREFACE.  
THOUGH the following POEM was at first Translated for my own Diversion, and has lain by a great while, without any other Design, yet having consented to the Publication of it, I thought it might deserve the Ceremony of a short Preface to Introduce it.  
The Original was Writ in Latin many Years ago, and having been always esteemed an Extraordinary Poem. This Consideration, I presume, may be a sufficient Plea for any One, whose Fancy might incline him to Translate it.  
I must confess, that tho' the Fiction is very well Contrived, and contains abundance of Wit, yet being designed in Praise of Music, it may be thought an Unhappiness, that the very Foundation of the Story seems tacitly to oppose the Reputation of that Noble Art: For here Music is represented as of dangerous Consequence, in occasioning the Distraction and Death of a Young Man; whereas it may be objected that this Art seems rather Adapted and designed, for quite contrary Effects, viz. not only for Recreating and Refreshing the Spirits, when depressed and languishing, but also by a Charming Efficacy composing and restraining them from all Extravagant Excursions, and by this means, according to the Opinion (if not Experience) of the Ancients, by degrees effecting a Serious Conformation of the Mind to the right Notion of Things, and consequently an Aptitude and Inclination to the Practice of Moral Virtues. All this must certainly be granted, and yet that Music might by chance have as ill Effect as is described in the following Poem, may be no ●reat Derogation from the Excellence of the A●t; but only represents to us, that like a Good Medicine, tho' it is of great efficacy, yet still it may be injudiciously applied.  
That different Sorts of Music may be contrived so as to have contrary Effects, our own Experience may convince us; for as the Grave Air does by a powerful Sympathy depress us to Sadness, so Quicker and more Sprightly Strains, with a proper Rhythmus do equally excite the Spirits to a cheerful and delightful Temper. And in like manner Ancient Philosophers, particularly the Platonists and Pythagoreans inform us, that it was in the Power of the Music, used in their Time, to incline the Mind either to Virtue or Vice. And thus tho' They greatly esteemed, and recommended this Art in General, yet still it was with this Caution, that some sorts of Airs were dangerous to Morality. And thus also we meet with some Instances recorded by Ancient Authors, that this Art has been so managed, as both to Cause and Cure Madness.  
The Story of Alexander and Timotheus is commonly known. Jamblicus in his Life of Pythagoras, Chap. XXV. and Boethius, in Presat. Mus. both speak of a Young Man, who by the Phrygian Kind of Music became Distracted, and afterwards by Doric Measures was reduced again to his Right Senses. And Galen from the Testimony of Posidonius writes to the same Effect, that Damon of Miletus happening to come where a Musician by Phrygian Airs had Incensed his Hearers to Madness, directing the Artist to change his Hand and play a grave Doric Strain, they were thereby charmed into a Tranquillity and Composedness of Mind.  
Saxon Grammaticus, an Ancient Historian, Lib. XII. Historiae Danicae. tells us of a certain Danish King, who by the Power of Music became Distracted. The Story may seem more remarkable if we consider the Particulars, as they are there related, which are to this Effect.  
It happened, that among several Musicians that attended the King at Supper, there was One most Eminent Artist, who, upon a Dispute about the Force of Music, being asked whether it was in the Power of his Art to Provoke a Man to Rage and Fury, affirmed it possible, and being afterwards questioned, whether he knew the Way or Method of such a Performance, confessed he did: Whereupon the King, being curious to Try the Experiment, desired, and at last by Threats compelled Him to use his utmost Endeavours to perform what he pretended to. The Musician perceiving no way of Declining the Undertaking, ordered that all Arms and dangerous Instruments should be removed out of the Room, and that several Persons, placed out of the Sound of his Music, as soon as they heard any extraordinary Noise, should break open the Doors, to prevent what Mischief might happen. And this being accordingly done, he began so Grave a Strain, that it presently filled the Hearers with Sadness, and lulled their Spirits into a deep Supefaction: After he had thus played a convenient Time, by a Brisker and more Sprightly sort of Music; he raised them from their. Dullness to a cheerful Temper, so that being cured of their Melancholy they were now Dancing for Joy: At last running over a confused Division with a most Violent quickness, he made them so Impatient, that they filled the House with Clamours; such an absolute Power had the Variety of Sounds over the Affections of their Mind. When those therefore that were without, understood that the King, and they that were with him, were grown Furious; they broke open the Doors, and took hold of the King, to secure him from doing himself a Mischief. But He, being incensed and strengthened with Passion, threw himself out of their Arms, and having got a Sword, presently Killed Four of his Guards, that were next him, and by a greater Number of Them, not without their great Danger, was at last overpowered.  
This strange Relation our Historian confirms by this memorable Instance, that it occasioned a Revolution in the Government. For the King, when reduced to his Senses, being very Sorry for the Ill he had done; for the Expiation of his Crime, enjoined Himself a Religious Pilgrimage, designing to visit the Holy-Land: And accordingly having Committed the Administration of the Government to his Son Haraldus; in his Travels he died, and was Buried in the Island of Cyprus.  
I must leave the Reader to his own Liberty, whether he will believe this to be matter of Fact, or no; I shall not Vouch for the Historian. Tho' I might Expostulate in his behalf, what Interest he could have to mention such an Untruth, and to confirm it by such Remarkable Circumstances.  
But, what is most to our present Purpose, I shall offer some Reasons for supposing that the Music of the Ancients might possibly be so managed as to cause Madness.  
And first of all, it is not to be imagined how great Command of this Art they might have arrived to, by long Practice, and those Improvements which so many Learned Men, for several Ages, must successively have added; especially considering the vast Scope of the Ancient Music, when compared to the Modern. 'Tis probable, that the Art of Composing in Parts, may now be better Understood and Practised, than it was in their Time: But it must be supposed that while they neglected this Part of Music; they might improve their Art to a greater Influence over the Fancy by a long Study and Practice in the several Kind's of Music: And this will appear more Probable, if we consider that the Chromatic and Enharmonic Kind's, (which are not much used by Modern Musicians,) seem to be adapted to affect the Imagination with greater Force and Efficacy, than the Diatonic Genus, which is now chief practised.  
And Dr. Holder, in his Treatise concerning the Natural Grounds and Principles of Harmony, confirms the same Opinion in these Words.  
This way of theirs, seems to be more proper (by the Elaborate Curiosity, and Nicety of Contrivance of Degrees, and by Measures, rather than by Harmonious Consonancy; and by long studied Performance) to make great Impressions upon the Fancy, and Operate accordingly, as some Histories relate: Ours more sedately affects the Understanding and Judgement from the Judicious contrivance and happy Composition of Melodius Consort. The One quietly but powerfully affects the Intellect, by true Harmony: The Other chief by the Rhythmus, violently attacks and hurries the Imagination.  
Having thus considered the Art of Music in General; if we inquire into the Nature and Properties of Sounds, we may with greater Certainty guests their Effects.  
That they Cure the Sting of the Tarantula, is a Truth so generally received, and confirmed, by several Persons, that have been Eye-Witnesses of it in some parts of Italy, That it may be no unworthy Employment of our Thoughts, to inquire into the manner of this their Operation, And in the first place we may reasonably suppose, that this Malady does partly proceed from a great Effervescence of the Animal Spirits of the Insect, actuated by a Violent Intention, as it is in Mad Dogs, and Communicated by the Sting to the Patient. Secondly, by the Effects we may perceive, that the Poison received chief affects the Spirits, the Symptom discovered being only a Frenzy. And lastly, considering the Quantity of the Poisonous Matter compared to that of the whole Mass of Blood, we may conclude that It is neither proportioned nor qualified to Disorder, any thing but the Animal Spirits, and that this Disorder, as in all other Fermentations, chief consists in a too Violent and Preternatural Motion. Now if Music Cures this Distemper by Actuating the Spirits so as to oppose the Incursion of the Poison, It may be, as it is in Women, in a longing Condition, when the Imagination directs the Animal Spirits to collect and compose out of the Blood of the Parent such Particles as come nearest to the Thing longed for, in outward appearance; the Imagination always acting according to the Sense that informs it; these Particles being thus mustered up to supply the Foetus with what Nature seems to Want; they are fixed by the Spirits and Mark the same Part of the Child's Body, as the Mother chances first to think of, or touch of her own, this Accident determining and directing the Operation of the Spirits, by the resemblance of the Parts to the Imagination. And thus possibly Musical Sounds may strengthen and empower the Imagination to employ the Spirits so as to gather out of the Blood such Principles as may resist and oppose the Contagion.  
But since we supposed that the Sting of the Tarantula only causes an extraordinary commotion of the Animal Spirits, it seems most probable that Music by such an Influence as that whereby it inclines us to Sadness, may be adapted to allay or restrain that unnatural Effervescence, till Nature has dispersed or wrought off the Fermentative Matter; and thus it seems most reasonable to believe, that the Cure of the By't of the Tarantula is effected.  
Now from this Consideration of Musical Sounds, we may infer, that they may be also capable of producing contrary Effects: For if They can thus allay and moderate the Motion of the Spirits when in a high Frenzy, 'tis equally probable that by contrary measures they may excite Them to as great a Distraction. Nay, the Music of the Ancients, as we have before represented it, seems more adapted to Cause than to Cure Madness, not only upon the Account of its Variety, but even from our own Observation that the sprightly Air more powerfully elevates the Spirits, than the Grave Composition depresses and restrains Their Motion.  
And it may appear an unreasonable Suspicion to distrust the Concurring Testimony of Ancient Authors concerning the Wonderful Operation of Music upon the Mind, if we reflect upon the Exquisiteness of the Sense, which it affects. For the Objects of the Visive Faculty are so Imaginary and Intellectual, that they produce in us rather a Perception than a Sensation; and on the other Hand, the Inferior Senses are Gross and Material; whereas Harmonious Sounds Act with greater and Nobler Force upon the Ear; for Insinuating themselves into the Affections, by co-operating with the Motions of the Animal Spirits, they gain a great Influence both over Soul and Body.  
Thus we have taken a short and Transient View of the Natural Effects of Music upon the Mind, as far as might be pertinent to our present Purpose, as well for the Curiosity of the Subject, as to advance the following Poem, by making the Fiction appear more Probable.   

ERRATA.  
PRef. p. 3. l. 23. read Stupefaction. Po. p. 2. l. 12. r. Loves. l. 19 r. Night the Day. p. 7. l. 9 r. his Eyes.   

Musica Incantans: OR, The POWER of MUSIC.  
The ARGUMENT.  
A Young Man having, at his own Request, heard a Performance in MUSIC, growing thereby Distracted, drowns himself in the Sea: The Musician thereupon Apprehended, and Accused of Homicide, undertakes to Plead, Defends himself, and is Acquitted.  

NO Royal Fight, No Hero's conquering Arms,  
But nobler victories by Harmonious Charms  
We Sing: Th' 〈…〉 odd, that animates the Lyre  
Will our bold Song, in its just Praise, inspire.  
But what nice Hand can Sounds pretend to paint,  
And to our Eyes soft Echoes represent.  
On some great Themes did Ancient Poets wish  
An Hundred Voices to inform; on This  
As many Ears and Tongues we want, t' express  
A Song, like Music, justly various.   

A Lyrist in Arcadia lived, so skilled,  
His Fame and Music all the Country filled;  
Him some great Neighbours Nuptial Feast invites,  
With other Youth, to celebrate the Rites,  
The mirthful Entertainments to partake,  
And the Reward of Those his Art could make:  
Such was their Custom: Thus the Nuptial joys  
The Muse, though still a Virgin, love to Solemnize:  
And should she not assist▪ the Festival  
Of Love and Wine would soon grow Dull and palls.  
And who but Lyrists should those Rites attend.  
Whose Art o'er Birds and Beasts has such Command,  
That they the Treat not only can advance,  
But the whole Feast supply by their Attractive Strains.   

The Nuptials done, when Night 〈◊〉 Day invades,  
Returning homeward o'er the Verdant Meads;  
(Like Orpheus Walking in th' Elysian Shades,)  
He sees a Youth, who in a Neighbouring Field,  
Looked, as the Evening was, sedate and mild:  
Walking towards him, ignorant of his Fate:  
(Thus who does not Misfortunes sometimes meet)  
Much pleased to See him, whose Harmonious Art  
Can to his Ears such soft Delights impart:  
Unconscious, that this Orpheus with his Lyre,  
Can Life destroy, as well as Life Inspire.   

They meet; and after Salutation past,  
The Youth his love of Music straight expressed,  
To hear its Charms employs his Eloquence;  
And from the Lyrist for Rewards obtains  
His future Damage in the Fatal Strains.   

The Artist takes his Lyre, and straight gins  
With broken Strokes, to Tune the trembling Strings,  
Thus All he does with their just Sound supply  
He tries, and knows when sweetly they agree,  
Tho' different each, in universal Harmony.  
Then with a careless Touch, his Fingers fly  
O'er the just Order of some tuneful Key,  
And unawares he joins his Chanting Voice,  
And thus unthinkingly his Art betrays.   

Thus he at once explores his Lyre, and shows  
That from most skilful Hands th' Harmonious Prelude flows▪  
And while the Strings, and his own Nerves he strains,  
Both for the future Song become intense.  
By Artful Methods thus his Art he tries;  
Then boldly strikes, and equally his Voice  
Does, like the mounting Lark, with Singing rise.  
No sooner thus the Strings began to move,  
But the Youth's trembling Heart within him strove,  
With tunelike Pulses to compose a Dance,  
As if its Fibres felt th' affecting Strains.  
Such Power has MUSIC, that with slender Threads▪  
It thus the noblest Minds, as Captive▪ leads.  
O'er the Charmed Youth the Lyrist thus gins  
At once his Conquest, and the Triumph Sings.  
The speaking Strings confess the powerful Hand  
That, making those soft Melodies ascend,  
Did even the Tongue itself in Vocal Skill transcend.   

Such Harmonies the Youth not only heard,  
But they are to each altered Limb transferred:  
He Blushes, then turns pale again, and thus  
His Colour, as the Sound, grows various:  
His Feet would in Harmonious Measures move,  
But that they more th' attentive Station love:  
His sparkling Blood within his glowing Vei●s  
Strives to ferment into a Circ'lar Dance:  
And tho' the Limbs cannot the Music hear,  
Their Parts of Passion all in Consort bear:  
Such universal Transports he received,  
As if new Life he from that Harmony derived.   

Thus, wondering at the strange and powerful Skill▪  
With trembling, like the Strings, he seems to feel  
Each Stroke the Artist plays; and every Sound,  
As by some Magic, seems t' inflict a Wound:  
And yet so pleasant all appear, that still  
His soothed tho' suffering Mind, at once they wound and heal.   

The Song was various, which, if told, might please:  
In gentle Warble first the Strings express  
The sad Affecting Fate of Philomela,  
More mournful than her Needle could reveal.  
Then of the Gods the Rapes he sung, and Ioves  
Innumerable and lascivious Loves:  
But still unmoved, the Youth's Harmonious Breast  
No Love, but that of the soft Lyre, possessed:  
He feels its charming Violence within,  
And thinks no other Rape can be Divine:  
With th' Artist's Hand, his Heart in Consort Beats,  
And with a timely Pulse each Stroke repeats.  
And thus the Eyrist does his Passion raise,  
And through his Listening Ears his Soul decoys:  
But when th' Effects, his Art produced, he spied,  
He raised his Voice, and bolder strains essayed,  
Uniting Nature's Powers with those his Art supplied.   

O'er various Notes the Lyre and Lyrist run,  
While in soft Groans the Youth strikes only One:  
And when such Harmonies in Consort join,  
To bear the powerful Sounds he strives invain:  
While Vocal Skill conspires with Artful strains,  
A quick Distraction o'er his Senses gains:  
And with such Force the Artist raised his Breath,  
That with soft Air it Wounds, and Speaks resistless Death:  
As if within his Mouth there did ferment  
Contagious Fury, such as Dogs in Madness vent,  
And with such Artful Rage the Notes invade,  
Th' Attentive Youth grows Emulously Mad;  
While to his Brain his vanquished Sense transfers  
Sounds that too much oppress his ravished Ears:  
And such strong Charms attend the Powerful Lays,  
As moved the Brain out of its proper place.   

Now Madness in odd Freaks gins to play;  
His Blushes, swimming Eyes, and Looks betray  
Confusion in his Mind: his Senses quit,  
In a disordered Flight, their tottering seat.  
Sometimes he shakes his Head, as if his Brain  
Th' Ideas of those lasting Sounds within  
Laboured to Echo out— sometimes Eyes  
To Heaven he lifts, and, in wild Blasphemies,  
Those lofty Regions rashly he forswears,  
Where MUSIC reigns in vast revolving Spheres.  
Thus he in Passion— starting then in haste  
With furious Rage towards the Sea he passed,  
While all its Labours strive within his Breast:  
Like Stormy Waves, his Thoughts tumultuous rise,  
His Face with Foam grows White as raging Seas:  
To the vast Main at length approaching near,  
Which happened then in Ebbing to retire,  
Thus, in its usual Course did Trembling seem,  
As Careful to decline the future Crime.  
Here stopping, in his looks his Madness lowrs,  
(As Ajax frowned on the Sigean Shores)  
And since the Sounds invain he would forget,  
Invain to Lethe's dormant Pool commit,  
He in the spacious Main resolves to try  
The pertinacious Notes to wash away,  
And hopes eternal Peace amongst the Silent Fry.   

He views the Waves, and to the troubled Seas  
Compares his Mind— Now for strange Voyages  
He'd fain Embark, and give the Wind his Cares,  
Nor any Danger of the Deep he fears,  
Secure from Harmony— Now his Disease  
Ferments so high, he knows not where he is:  
In Frenzy's Whirlpool hurried round he seems,  
And his Head swims at sight of distant Streams—  
Now Death he fears— now wishes for; and thus  
Like Waves, his doubtful Mind still ebbs and flows—  
At length he on a sudden leaps away,  
And plunged himself in the less raving Sea:  
And thus the Waves now swell with double Rage,  
While adverse Floods the striving Youth engage;  
Who, tho' he tempted his untimely Death,  
Now struggles to preserve his fleeting Breath:  
But he invain resists th' o'rewhelming Seas,  
Then Farewell, Fatal, Charming Lyre, he cries:  
Sinking the bubbling Waves his Ears drink in,  
And in this Death his Eyeballs truly swim.   

As famed Nancissus did from Echo fly,  
And in the flattering Flood distracted Die,  
This Youth more charmed an equal Fortune had,  
Striving those Softer Echoes to evade;  
Like His, the Fate that did this Youth engage,  
Equally strange was his destructive Rage:  
And while he gazed on the Tempestuous Flood,  
Narcissus ne'er his juster Image viewed.   

And thus he fell, whose Birth the Birds of Fate  
With inauspicious Songs did celebrate.  
Severely sweet the Muses tuned the Lyre,  
And thus the Nine did all against One Youth conspire.  
The Lyrist thus displayed his Siren Art,  
Not only that he did such Sounds impart,  
But that, by force of powerful Harmony,  
He to the fatal Waves did the fond Youth decoy.   

And thus the Artist did such Skill express  
As equalled great Amphion's charming Lays,  
And as He soothed wild Beasts, did fiercer Passions raise.   

Ah Grief! to think that such sweet Strains as these  
Should Mortal prove, and the Three Destinies  
Should String with Fatal Threads the warbling Lyre!  
But if such gentle Notes can Death inspire,  
How Dreadful then is every Tuneful Sound,  
That can with Softness pierce, and Trembling wound.   

Then let Apollo quit his Shafts and Bow,  
The String alone can all their force out do.  
The Trumpet seems, while MUSIC thus Destroys,  
Itself to Conquer: And no wonder 'tis,  
The Lion trembles at the Cock's shrill Voice.   

O Cruel Breath! to Speak the Mortal Blow  
Was more than Barbarous Nero e'er could do:  
He in such Tuneful Strains his Tyrannies  
Might Celebrate: But this Destructive Voice  
Even in the Fatal Act itself employs.   

If e'er Empedocles had heard those Strains,  
He ne'er had perished in th' Etnean Flames;  
But might reverse his Fate, escape the Fire,  
And in the Watery Element expire.  
Or had this Lyrist been a Rural Swain,  
Thus o'er the Listening Herd his Notes would gain,  
And they'd be forced into the Waves to stray  
By tuneful Charms, And Phrixus might survey  
Whole Flocks of Sheep all swimming in the Sea.   

If when the World was from the Flood retrieved,  
This Lyrist had the Common Fate survived,  
And for Deucalion had this Song prepared,  
To soothe his Cares, when He those Sounds had heard▪  
He too would hasten to the Ebbing Sea,  
And even in th' expiring Deluge Die.   

Apollo thus, without Celestial Fire,  
Bold Icarus, that did too high expire,  
Might sooner plunge by his more powerful Lyre.   

If Sounds can Kill, and Notes the Sword supply,  
Achilles, when he ceased to war with Troy,  
Consulting the sweet Force of Lyric Charms▪  
Did only change, not truly quit his Arms.   

But now Loquacious Fame the News had spread  
Of the strange Fatal Notes, the Lyrist played,  
As Echo would those Notes reiterate,  
She did the aggravated Crimes repeat  
Both of the Lyrist, and his murderous Strains;  
And to the Magistrate at length complains.   

And now a Council does himself apply,  
With Bawling, to condemn the Charms of Harmony:  
And first he does for the great Cause prepare,  
Then turns himself to the Tremendous Bar,  
And thus against the Lyrist does Declare.   

The Council against the Lyrist.  

My Lord, I move, that a few things You'd hear,  
Before the Criminal's Voice enchants your Ear,  
Who here stands Charged with a strange Murdering Skill  
In Music: 'Tis no more with him to Kill,  
Than play a Tune; and thus on Land have we  
A Syren-Monster greater than the Sea.  
Music is sweet— but Murder louder cries,  
Nor with the Sounds their Crime can quickly cease.  
And he himself by his own Words betrays,  
While this Harmonious Art he durst profess,  
For which we see Amphion justly feared,  
And Orpheus was compelled with Brutes to herd.  
If Birds were thus Harmonious, soon would they  
Even to each other's Song become a Prey.  
Now this Infernal Orpheus, with his Lyre,  
Charmed an unhappy Youth even to admire  
The Sea, as That some Venus did contain,  
And now even sweet he thinks the Briny Main.  
What should he do, whose Sense was thus engaged?  
Even Daedalus, with such soft Notes enraged,  
Had plunged, unless with Wax he'd stopped his Ears:  
But here with Land the Criminal Sea conspires,  
And while the guilty Waves are stained with Blood,  
They spread their Crime o'er all the weeping Flood:  
Invain they strive to Sink the Fatal Deed,  
Which in their Blushing Face too plain we read:  
The Watery God gins to rage and Foam,  
That no just Punishments the Crime atone,  
Murmuring to see Vindictive justice slow—  
But if sweet sounds can Drown, I wonder how  
Arion o'er the Sea so safely passed:  
And when the Lyrist plunged the Youth, at least  
His Art might there for him a Dolphin Draw,  
But now he no Defence can make, the Law  
Proclaims him Guilty; Statutes all agree,  
And that of justice is the Legal Harmony.   

He said. And all the Court, with silent Fear,  
Did of the Criminal's Answer straight despair.  
But 'twould be strange should MUSIC silent be  
In its own Cause, should Echo ne'er reply.   

The Crier having Proclamation made,  
The unharmonious Voice the Lyrist straight obeyed,  
With faltering speech and trembling he gins;  
And yet even Musical that Trembling seems,  
For artfully he shook, as when he sung,  
His charming Lyre o'er his Left Shoulder hung,  
While for his Life he Speaks a good Defence,  
Which he had almost lost by Vocal Strains.  
As Learned Gracchus, when he was to plead,  
Instructed by his Harp the Lyrist made  
A Various Speech: The silent Court attends,  
While thus he Answers, and himself Defends.    

The Lyrist in his own Defence.  

My Tuneful Voice, charged with another's Fate,  
I beg, myself from Death may vindicate.  
Invain I would the Fatal Strains recant,  
Or if with Tears I should the Youth lament,  
I should but add vain Waters to the Main:  
The Fact I may defend, but would recall in vain.  
With Songs the Dying Youth to celebrate,  
Was to Bewail, but could not 'Cause his Fate.  
And having seen the God of Harmony.  
Each Evening safely plunge the willing Sea,  
Where thus each Night the Lord of Song remained,  
I thought, that this Harmonious Youth might find  
Himself with equal Favour entertained.  
Suppose he fling himself into the Seas,  
Charmed by my Strains, there's no Great Crime in this:  
Who e'er for Hellebore to cure his Brain,  
Can without venturing thus explore the Main:  
Besides, since I've oft heard the Learned say,  
Our Souls are all made up of Harmony,  
If this Youth Died by the too charming Lyre,  
'Twas with Excess of Life he did expire.  
But how could the soft Notes of Music Kill?  
Since Death with empty Sounds alone could ne'er prevail.  
The Criminal Seas their self-attoning Fault  
With Lustral Water soon may expiate,  
And thus the Waves, that caused, will purge from Gild the Fate.  
And let those Cruel over-whelming Seas  
Now also drown my Crime in endless Peace.  
But if I Dye, who shall my Death atone?  
If my Charmed Trees should fatal Spears become,  
Invain they'd strive thus to revenge my Fate,  
As Vengeance oft o'ertakes the Crime too late.  
Or shall the Stones, once softened by my Lyre,  
Rudely involve me in a Sepulchre.  
If MUSIC be the Crime for which I die,  
How well the Tuneful Swan resembles me,  
Since thus I sung my own prophetic Elegy.  
The Crime, that's charged, does still unproved remain:  
For the Youth's Drowning must I plunge the Main?  
Was I the Cause, that while I sung, he drowned?  
If at that time a Star fell to the Ground,  
Would You then think my Strains the Stars from Heaven drew down.  
'Tis Madness, thus to charge me with his Rage,  
Or think the Muse could with blind Fate engage  
Against the Youth, or that by Art he died;  
No guiltless Blood my Voice did ever shed:  
Lords of the Law! 'tis your Sententious Breath,  
That can with Words alone speak certain Death.  
Thus he— Then justly grant a Wretch, he cried,  
Your Pardon. Pardon Echo straight replied.   

He said. The judge to Favour much inclines,  
And this the Criminal's Punishment enjoins,  
That since in Skill thus Orpheus he exceeds,  
He shall descend to the Elysian Shades,  
And thence compel, by a like Artful Strain,  
The Youth, he thither sent, back to return again.   

If Any ask, what could my Thoughts engage  
In this Mad Theme; 'Twas some Poetic Rage.  
Forbidding me the Heliconian Spring,  
That led me thus in Seas to Bath and Sing.  
Poets an Artful Fury must inspire,  
And thy True Sons, great Patron of the Lyre,  
May pass like Orpheus to th' Elysian Shades:  
Thy glorious Flight the lofty Skies invades.  
But I, without th' Harmonious Quill and Voice  
Of the Dircean Swan, can't sing thy Praise;  
And those, tho' famed, can only cantivate  
Th' inferior Wood, but Laurels on Thee wait:  
And justly thou dost thy own Fate Survive,  
Like Memnon's Vocal Status, still to give  
Thyself that Praise thou only canst make live.  
And hast inscribed, since thus thy Art was tried,  
Soft Music's lasting Praise even in the fluid Tide.   

But while for thy just Praise, I thus prepare,  
In the vast Main, I dread to venture far,  
So large an Ocean does my thoughts engage,  
I must strike Sail, and check my forward Rage▪    
FINIS.