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plean while a thousand harps were play'd on high; )
RECITATIVE. “ Be this thy measur'd bound,"
The river's echoing banks with pleasure did prolong Was echo'd all around;
| The sweetly-warbled sounds, and inurmur'd with the " And now arise, ye Earth, and Seas, and Sky!”
Daphne fled swifter, in despair, (song. A thousand voices made reply,
To 'scape the god's embrace: “ Arise, ye Earth, and Seas, and Sky!”
And to the genius of the place What can Music's power control ?
She sigh'd this wondrous prayer: When Nature's sleeping soul
AIR. Perceiv'd th' enchanting sound,
Father Peneus, hear me, aid me! It wak'd, and shook off foul Deformity;
Let some sudden change invade me; The mighty melody
Fix me rooted on thy sbore. Nature's secret chains unbound;
Cease, Apollo, to persuade me; And Earth arose, and Seas, and Sky.
I am Daphne now no more. Aloft expanded spheres were slung,
Father Peneus, hear me, aid me! With shining luminaries hung;
Let some sudden change invade me; A vast Creation stood display'd,
Fix me rooted on thy shore. By Heaven's inspiring Music made.
Apollo wondering stood to see O Fondrous force of Harinony!
The nympu transform'd into a tree. Divinest art, whose fame shall never cease!
Vain were his dyre, his voice, his tuneful art, Thy honour'd voice proclaim'd the Saviour's birth; |
His passion, and his race divine; When Heaven vouchsaf'd to treat with Earth,
| Nor could th'eternal beams, that round his temples Music was herald of the peace:
Melt the cuid virgin's frozen heart (shine, Thy voice could best the joyful tidings tell;
AIR. Immortal Mercy! boundless Love!
Nature alone can love inspire;
Art is vain to move clesire.
If Nature once the fair incline,
To their own passion they resign.
Nature alone can love inspire;
Art is vain to move desire.
The numerous nations straight
A TIJOUGHT IN A GARDEV.
WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1704
DELIGHTFUL mansion! blest retreat! Proud Architecture shall in ruins lie,
Where all is silent, all is sweet! And Painting fade and die,
Here Contemplation prunes her wings, Say Earth, and Heaven itself, in wasteful fire decay.
The raptur'd Muse more tuneful sings, Music alone, and Poesy,
While May leads on the cheerful hours,
And opens a new world of flowers.
Gay Pleasure here all dresses wears,
And in a thousand shapes appears. And praise and sing, and sing and praise, Pursu'd by Fancy, how she roves la never-ceasing choirs, to all eternity.
Through airy walks, and museful groves;
In this elysium while I stray,
And Nature's fairest face survey,
Farth seems new-born, and life more bright;
Time stcals away, and smoothis his flight;
And Thought's bewilderd in delight.
Where are the crowds I saw of late?
What are those tales of Europe's fatc?
Of Anjou, and the Spanish crown; Alcng the winding shore of Peneus flew,
And leagues to pull usurpers down? To shun Love's tender, offer'd joy;
Of marching armies, distant wars; Though 'twas a god that did her charms pursne. Of factions, and domestic jars?
While thus Apollo, in a moving strain, (pain. Sure these are last night's dreains, no more; Azak'd his lyre, and softly breath'd his amorous
Or some romance, read lately o'er;
Like liomer's antique tale of Troy,
And powers confederate to destroy
Priam's proud house, the Dardan name,
With him that stole the ravish'd dame,
And, to possess another's right,
Durst the whole world to arms excite.
Come, gentle Sleep, my cye-liels close,
These dull impressions help me lose:
Let Fancy take her wing, and find
But, cruel goddess ! when I find Some better dreams to sooth my mind;
Diana's coldness in your mind, Or waking let me learn to live;
How can I bear that fix'd disdain ? The prospect will instruction give.
My pleasure dies, and I but live in pain.
Tyrant Cupid! when, relenting,
Will you touch the charmer's heart? Such let my life's smooth current be,
Sooth her breast to soft consenting, Till from Time's narrow shore set free,
Or remove from mine the dart! It mingle with th' eternal sea;
Tyrant Cupid! when, relenting, And, there enlarg'd, shall be no more!
Will you touch the charmer's heart?
Tli' applauded beauty, doubly bright,
And looks as she would let me live;
And yet she chides, but with so sweet an air, Janus! great leader of the rolling year,
That while she love denies, she yet forbids despair. Since all that's past no rows can e'er restore,
Fear not, doubting fair! t approve me;
Can you love me? With brightest aspects thy foreface,
Frown not, if you answer no; While Time's new offspring hastens to appear.
If you answer, frown not, no. With lucky omens guide the coming How's,
When again I ask, pursuing, Command the circling Seasons to advance,
If you'll stay and see my ruin? And form their renovated dance,
Fly—but let me with you go! With Rowing pleasures fraught, and bless'd by Blush not, doubting fair! t approve me; friendly powers.
Can you love me?
Smile, and every fear forego!
FOR VOCAL AND INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC, Which Folly cannot shun, nor wise Reflection cure.
TO THE MEMORY OF THE MOST NOBLE
WILLIAM DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE.
SET TO MUSIC BY MR. PEPUSCH.
A thousand accidents severe;
[Overture of soft Music.] To finish me in woes, and crush me down with Fate.
(flow, If she must with a less propitious look
· While down your cheeks the streaming sorrows Forbid my humble sacrifice,
Let murmuring strings with the soft voice combine
T'express the melody of Woe.
And thou, Augusta! rise and wait,
With decent honours, on the great;
Condole my loss, and weep Devonia's fate.
AIR. WITH FLUTES.
Thy beauteous smile,
Turn to tender grief thy joy.
From thy shore of Thames replying,
Gentlest Echoes, fainting, dying,
Shall their sorrow too employ. Your tender lips, your soft enchanting eyes,
Queen of cities! leare awhile And all the Venus in your face,
Thy beauteous smile, Tmn tilld with pleasure and surprise:
Turn to tender grief thy joy.
And, hated by all tyrants, chose
The glory to have such his foes.” 'Tis Fame's chief immortality,
AUGUSTA, Britannia, to be mourn'd by thee.
Genius of Britain! give thy sorrows o'er:
A grateful tribute thou hast paid
To thy Devonia's noble shade;
Now vainly wecp the dead no more!
For see-the duke and patriot still survives, Lands remote the loss will hear;
And in his great successor lives.
I own the new-arising light,
I see paternal grandeur shine,
Descending through th’ illustrious line, Lands remote, &c.
In the same royal favours bright.
LAST DUETTO, WITH ALL THE INSTRUMENTS,
BRIT. Gently smooth thy flight, O Time! Great George! whose azure emblems of renown
AUG. Smoothly wing thy flight, O Tine! Are the fair gifts of Britain's crown,
BOTH. And as thou, flying, growest olu, Patron of my illustrious isle !
Still this happy race behold Thou saw'st thy order late expressid,
In Britannia's court sublime. With added brightness, on Devonia’s breast;
BRIT. Lead along their smiling Hours ;
Aug. Long produce their siniling Hours;
Botu, Blest by all auspicious powers.
BRIT. Gently sinooth thy Right, O Time! FOR BRITANNIA AND AUGUSTA.
AUG. Smoothly wing thy fight, O Tiine ! BEIT. To shade his peaceful grave,
BOTH. And as thou, flying, growest old, Let growing palms extend !
Still this happy race behold auc. To grace his peaceful grave,
In Britannia's court sublime.
Sto shade, &c.
SPOKEN BY MR. MILLS, AT THE QUEEN'S THEATRE, ON
BIS BENEFIT-NICHT, FEBRUARY 16, 1709, A LITTLE AUGUSTA.
BEFORE THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUH's GOING FOR RECITATIVE.
HOLLAND Now shall Augusta's sons their skill impart,
WHETHER our stage all others docs excel And summon the dumb sister Art,
in strength of wit, we'll not presume to tell : In marble life to show
But this, with noble, conscious pride, we'll say, What the patriot was below. Here, let a weeping Cupid stand,
No theatre such glories can display;
Such worth conspicuous, beauty so divine, And wound himself with his own dart; "There place the ducal crown, the sword, the wand,
As in one British audience mingled shine.
Who can, without amazement, turn his sight, The mark of Anna's trust and his command.
And mark the awful circle here to-night?
Warriors, with ever-living laurels, brought
From empires sav'd, from battles bravely fought, Bring a light on noble minds,
Here sit; whose matchless story shall adorn Every courtly grace combining,
Scenes yet unwrit, and charm e'en ages yet unborn. Every generous action joining,
Yet who would not expect such martial fire,
That sees what eyes those gallant deeds inspire? Lofty birth and honours shining
Valour and Beauty still were Britain's claim,
Both are her great prerogatives of fame;
By both the Muses live, from both they catch their.
flame. . RECITATIVE.
Then as by you, in solid glory bright, Behold fair Liberty attend,
Our envy'd Isle through Europe spreads her light, And in Devonia's loss bewail a friend.
And rising honours every year sustain, See o'er his tomb perpetual lamps she lights, And mark the golden tract of Anne's distinguish'd Then, on his urn, the goddess writes:
reign; “ Preserve, o Um! his silent dust,
So, by your presence here, we'll strive to raise Who faithful did obey
To nobler heights our action and our plays; Princes like Anna, good and just,
And poets from your favours shall derive Yet scorn'd his freedom to betray;
That immortality they toast to give,
DIALOGUE DE L'AMOUR ET DU POETE. IN A WINDOW AT GREENHITHE.
T LE P. AMOUR, je ne veux plus aimer;
J'abjure à jamais ton empire: Great President of light, and Eye of day,
Mon cour, lassé de son martire, As through his glass you cast your visual ray,
A résolu de se calmer. And view with nuptial joys two brothers blest,
L'am. Contre moi, qui peut t'animer?
Iris dans ses bras te rapelle.
LE P. Non, Iris est une infidelle;
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer. beauties here.
L'am. Pour toi, j'ai pris soin d'enflamer
Le cour d'une beauté nouvelle;
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.
L'am. D'un soupir, tu peux désarmer
Dirce, jusqu'ici si sauvage. And on each glass some beauty's praise is writ,
LE P. Elle n'est plus dans le bel age; You ask, my friends, how can my silent Muse
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer. To Montague's soft name a verse refuse?
L'AM. Mais si je t'aidois à charmer Bright though she be, of race victorious sprung,
La jeune, la brillante Flore.By wits ador'd, and by court-poets sung;
Tu rongis-vas-tu dire encore, Unmov'd I hear her person calld divine,
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer. I see her features uninspiring shine;
| LE P. Non, dieu charmant, daigne former A softer fair my soul to transport warms,
Pour nous une chaine eternelle;
Mais pour tout ce qui n'est point elle,
TOFTS AND MARGARETTA.
DIALOGUE FROM THE FRENCH
OF MONSIEUR DE LA MOTTE.
Thy tyrant empire I abjure:
Its wounds, and ease the raging pain.
Iris recals thee to her arms.
No, Love ne'er will love again.
Daphné, the bright, the reigning toast.
No, Love- ne'er will love again.
Dircé, shall for one sigh be thine.
No, Love I ne'er will love again.
Flora, the young, the bright, the gay!
No, Love---I ne'er will love again.
Eternal for that fair and me!
Yet still know every fair but she, • Pie vow'd I ne'er will love again.
: THE WANDERING BEAUTY, The Graces and the wandering Loves
Are fled to distant plains,
To wound almiring swains..
Who turns her careless eyes
And conquers while she flies.
To change the lover's pain,
And brings the fair again.
Think you she'll e'er resign?
Or you, like her, divine !
VENTS AND ADONIS.
The bright, th’immortal queen of love?
And hark, she mourns, but mourns in vain,
RECITATIVE. Her beauteous, lov'd Adonis, slain.
Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy strain; The hills and woods her loss deplore;
The lovely scene false joy inspires: The Naiads hear, and flock around;
For look, thou fond, deliided swain,
A rising storin invades the main!
The planet of the night,
Inconstant, from thy sight
Behind a cloud retires.
Flora is tied; thou lov'st in vain :
Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy strain
Like the Moon and Ocean smiling,
Does thy easy faith betray;
Like the Moon and Ocean changing,
More inconstant proves than they. While tbou didst call the lovely stain;
Transform'd by heavenly power, The lovely spain arose a flower, And, smiling, grac'd the plain.
BEAUTY, And now he blooms, and now he fades;
Fair rival to the god of day,
Beauty, to thy celestial ray
A thousand sprightly fruits we owe;
Gay wit, and moving eloquence,
And every art t'improve the sense,
And every grace that shines below.
Not Phoebus does our songs inspire,
Nor did Cyllenius form the lyre,
'Tis thou art music's living spring;
To thee the poet tunes his lays,
And, sweetly warbling Beauty's praise,
Describes the power that makes him sing
Painters from thee their skill derive,
By thee their works to ages live,
That seem to shoot from other skies.
Enchanting vision! who can be
l'nmov'd that turns his eyes on thice?
Yet brighter still thy glories shine,
And double charms thy power iinprove,
When Beauty, dress'd in smiles of Love,
Grows, like its parent Heaven, divine !
SET BY DR. PFPUSCU.
Love frowns in beauteous Myra's eyes; The shepherd sung inspir'd, and blessid the lovely Ah, nymph! those cruel looks give o'er. scene.
While Love is frowning, Beauty dies,
And you can charm no more.
Mark, how, when sullen clouds appear,
And wintry storins deface the year,
The prudent cranes no longer stay,
But take the wing, and through the air,
Froin the cold region fly awuy,