Chorus
STRO. 1.
1091
Thus the beauteous Danae lay
Long doom'd in brass-girt walls to dwell,
Denied the sun's ethereal ray
Enclosed in her sepulchral cell :
Yet her rich illustrious blood
From a long line of Argive monarchs flow'd;
And she, unconscious of his secret love,
Cherish'd the golden gems of Jove.
O fate, resistless is thy pow'r,
Triumphant o'er the heav'n-descended show'r,
The rampired wall, war's furious train,
And the black bark that rides the roaring main !
Thus the Thracian king, whose pride
Dash'd the scorn'd Thyrsus to the ground,
And dared th' avenging god deride,
In chains of rigid rock lay bound:
Sunk his soul to deep dismay,
His fury melted by degrees away;
Now knew he that his rude unhallow'd pride,
By frenzy fired, a god defied;
For he severe with stern disdain
From their loved Orgies awed the raptured train,
Forbade the Bacchic torch to shine,
And scorn'd the tuneful Muses' song divine..
Nigh the clashing rocks, whose brow
Frowns o'er the double sea that roars
Foaming with angry waves below,
You saw, ye wild Bosphorean shores,
(Where Mars the neighbouring cities holds in awe)
The sons of Phineus, and the wound abhorr'd ;
You saw their darken'd eye-balls gor'd;
Nor sword, nor spear, nor dart was found,
Unhappy youths, to give the wound :.
