Why [why] are all the Muses mute?
Why sleeps the viol and the lute?
Why hangs untun’d the idle lyre?
Awake! ’tis Caesar does inspire
And animates the vocal choir.

When should each soul exalted be
To all the heights of harmony?
When should just excess of joy
In their delightful task employ
The nimble hand and cheerful voice,
But when for Caesar’s welcome we prepare?

Caesar, Earth’s greatest good,
Caesar, Heav’ns chiefest care!

For Caesar’s welcome we prepare
Caesar, Earth’s greatest good,
Caesar, Heav’ns chiefest care!

Britain, thou now art great indeed:
Arise, and proud of Caesar’s godlike sway,
Above the neighbour nations lift thy head;
Command the world, while Caesar you obey.
Look up, and to our Isle returning see
The days of triumph, and of victory;
Great Caesar’s reign with conquest did begin,
And with triumphant shouts was usher’d in.

Great Caesar’s reign with conquest did begin,
And with triumphant shouts was usher’d in.

Accurs’d Rebellion rear’d her head,
And her proud banners vainly spread,
Back’d by all the Pow’r of Hell,
Pride, Ambition, Rage and Zeal;

But when Caesar | from on high
Let his revenging thunder fly,
How soon the threat’ning monster fell
Down, down from whence it rose, to Hell!
So Jove, scarce settl’d in his sky,
The impious sons of Earth defy,
But all their rage serv’d only to convince
The subject world of his omnipotence.

Caesar, for milder virtues honour’d more,
More for his goodness lov’d than dreaded for his pow’r,
Secur’d by his victorious arms,
And safe from any new alarms,
Is now at leisure to dispense
His universal influence,
And let unenvied blessings flow
On his obedient world below.

The many-headed Beast is quell’d at home,
And from abroad obsequious nations come
From Caesar to receive their doom.
The many-headed Beast is quell’d at home,
And from abroad obsequious nations come
From Caesar to receive their doom.

In the equal balance laid,
Europe’s fate by him is weigh’d:
This or that nation must prevail,
As he thinks fit to turn the scale.

Oh, how blest is the Isle to which Caesar is giv’n,
The glory of Earth, and the darling of Heav’n!
His name shall the Muses in triumph rehearse
As long as there’s number or music in verse;
His fame shall endure till all things decay;
His fame and the world together shall die,
Shall vanish together away.

Oh, how blest is the Isle to which Caesar is giv’n,
The glory of Earth, and the darling of Heav’n!
His name shall the Muses in triumph rehearse
As long as there’s number or music in verse;
His fame shall endure till all things decay;
His fame and the world together shall die,
Shall vanish together away.