Creon
I will ; and you my servants, be prepared ;
Each with his axe quick hasten to the place ;
Myself — for thus I have resolved — will go,
And the same hand that bound shall set her free ;
For, oh ! I fear 'tis wisest still through life
To keep our ancient laws, and follow virtue.
Bacchus, by vaiious names to mortals known,
Fair Semele's illustrious son,
Offspring of thunder-bearing Jove,
Who honourst famed Italia with thy love I
Who dwellst where erst the dragon's teeth were
Or where Ismenus pours his gentle flood ;
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Who dost o'er Ceres' hallowed rites preside,
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And at thy native Thebes propitious still reside.
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Where famed Parnassus' forked hills uprise.
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To thee ascends the sacritice ;
Corycia's nymphs attend below,
Whilst from Castalia's fount fresh waters flow :
O'er Nysa's mountains wreaths of ivy twine,
And mix their tendrils with the clustering vine :
Around their master crowd the virgin throng,
And praise the god of Thebes in never-dying song.
Happiest of cities, Thebes ! above the rest
By Semele and Bacchus blest !
Oh ! ^dsit now thy once beloved abode,
Oh ! heal our woes, thou kind protecting god !
From steep Parnassus, or th' Euboean sea.
With smiles auspicious come, and bring with thee
Health, joy, and peace, and fair prosperity.
Immortal leader of the maddening choir,
Whose torches blaze with unextinguished fire.
Great son of Jove, who guidst the tuneful throng,
Thou, who presidest o'er the nightly song.
Come with thy Naxian maids, a festive train,
Who, wild with joy, and raging o'er the plain,
For thee the dance prepare, to thee devote the strain.