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ülean while a thousand harps were play'd on high; " 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 inurnu'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 einbrace: “ Arise, ye Earth, and Seas, and Sky!”
And to the genius of the place
She sigh'd this wondrous prayer:
Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!
Let some sudden change invade me;
Fix me rooted on thy sbore.
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 Harmony !
The nympha 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 teniples Music was herald of the peace:
Melt the cuid virgin's frozen heart. (shine, Thy voice could best the joyful tidings tell; Immortal Mercy! boundless Love!
Nature alone can love inspire;
Art is vain to move desire.
If Nature once the fair incline,
To their own passion they resign. When Music must again its charms einploy;
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. Then other arts shall pass away:
DELIGHTFU 1. Mansion ! blest retreat! Proud Architecture shall in ruins lie,
Where all is silent, all is sweet! And Painting fade and die,
Here Contemplation pruncs her wings, Yay Earth, and Heaven itself, in wasteful fire decay. The raptur’d Muse morc tuneful sings, Music alone, and Poesy,
While May leads on the cheerful hours,
And opens a new world of flowers.
Gay Plcasure 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 elysiumn while I stray,
And Nature's fairest face survey,
Earth 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 fate?
Of Anjou, and the Spanish crown; Alcng the winding shore of Peneus flew,
And leoques to pull usurpers down? To shun Love's tender, offer'd joy;
Of marching armies, distant wars; Though 'twas a god that did lrer charins pursue. Of factions, and domestic jars?
While thus Apollo, in a njoving strain, (pain. Sure these are last night's drcains, no more;
Like Homer's antique tale of Troy,
And powers confederate to destroy
Priain's proud house, the Dardan naine,
With him that stole the ravish'd dame,
Durst the whole world to aris excite.
Come, gentle Sleep, my eye-lids 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 ?
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?
Th' applauded beauty, doubly bright,
And looks as she would let me live;
And yet she chides, but with so swcet an air, Jasts!
great leader of the rolling year, That while she love denies, she yet forbids despaira 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 coining Hous,
When again I ask, pursuing, Command the circling Seasons to advance,
If you'll stay and see my rum? And form their renovated dance,
Flý--but let me with you go! With flowing 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,
WILLIAM DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE.
GET TO MUSIC BY MR, PEPUSCH.
A thousand accidents severe;
(Overture of soft Music.] To finish me in woes, and crush me down with Fate.
BRITANNIA. But if the goddess, in whose charming eyes,
More clearly written than in Fate's dark book, My joy, my grief, my all of future fortune lies;
YE E generous Arts and Muses, join;
fow, If she must with a less propitious look
While down your cheeks the streaming sorrow's
Let murmuring strings with the soft voice combine
T express the melody of Woc.
And thou, Augusta! rise and wait, Cut short my mortal thread, and now
With decent honours, on the great;
Condole my loss, and weep Devonia's fate.
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! leave awhile And all the Tennis in your face,
Thy beauteous smile, l'uniilld with pleasure and surprise:
Turn to tender grief thy joy.
TO THE MEMORY OF THE MOST NOBLE
And, hated by all tyrants, chose
The glory to have such his foes.”
Genius of Britain! give thy sorrows o'er:
A grateful tribute thou hast paid I look'd, and saw a falling star.
To thy Devonia's noble shade;
Now vainly wecp the dead no more!
For see—the duke and patriot still survires, 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,
In the same royal favours bright.
LAST DUETTO, WITH ALL THE INSTRUMENTS. Great George! whose azure emblems of renown
BRIT. Gently smooth thy flight, O Time! Are the fair gifts of Britain's crown,
Smoothly wing thy flight, O Time! Patron of my illustrious isle!
BOTI). And as thou, Aying, growest old, Thou saw'st thy order late express'd,
Still this happy race behold With added brightness, on Devonia's breast;
In Britannia's court sublime. Dieet the companion knight, and own him with a
BRIT. Lead along their smiling Hours;
Long produce their siniling Hours; smile.
Boru. Blest by all auspicious powers.
BRIT. Gently smooth thy fight, O Time!
Smoothly wing thy flight, O Time!
BOTH. And as thou, fying, growest old,
Still this happy race behold
In Britannia's court sublime,
To shade, &c.
To grace, &c.
SPOKEN BY MR. MILIS, AT THE QUEEN'S THEATRE, ON
HIS BEYEFIT-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,
No theatre such glories can display;
Such worth conspicuous, beauty so divine,
As in one British audience mingled shine. 'There place the ducal crown, the sword, the wand,
Who can, without amazement, turn his sight, The nark of Anna's trust and his coinmand,
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.
Then as by you, in solid glory bright, Behold fair Liberty attend,
Our envy'd Isle through Europe spreads her light, And in Devonja's loss bewait 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 Ur! 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.
IN A WINDOW AT GREENHITHE. Great President of light, and Eye of day, As through this glass you cast your visual ray, And view with nuptial joys two brothers blest, And see is celebrate the genial feast, Confess, that in your progress round the sphere, You've found the happiest youths and brightest
DIALOGUE DE L'AMOUR ET DU POETE.
J abjure à jamais ton empire:
A résolu de se calmer.
Iris dans ses bras te rapelle.
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.
Le cæur d'une beauté nouvelle;
:-LE P. Non, Daphné n'est que belle; Amour, je ne veux plus aimer. L'Am. D'un soupir, tu peux désarmer
Dirce, jusqu'ici si sauvage.
Amour, je ne veux plus ainier.
La jeune, la brillante Flore.-
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.
Pour nous une chaine eternelle;
TIE TOASTERS. While circling healths inspire your sprightly wit, And on each glass some beauty's praise is writ, You ask, my friends, how can my silent Muse To Montague's soft name a verse refuse? Bright though she bce, of race victorious sprung, By wits ador'd, and by court-poets sung; Unmov'd I hear her person calld divine, I see her features uninspiring shj.e; A softer fair my soul to transport warms, And, she once nain'd, no other nymph has charms.
TOFTS AND MARGARETTA. Music has learn'd the discords of the state, And concerts jar with Whig and Tory hate. Here Somerset and Devonshire attend The British Tofts, and every note commend; To native Merit just, and pleas'd to see We've Roman arts, from Roman bondage free: There fam'd L'Epine dots equal skill employ, While listening peers crowd to th' ecstatic joy: Bedford, to hcar her song, his dice forsakes, And Nottingham is raptur'd when she shakes: Lull'd statesmen melt away their drowsy cares Of England's safety, in Italian airs. Who would not send cach year blank passes o'er, Rather than keep such strangers from our shore?
DIALOGUE FROM THE FRENCH
OF MONSIEUR DE LA MOTTE. poet. No, Love-I ne'er will love again;
Thy tyrant empire I abjure:
Its wounds, and ease the raging pain.
Iris recals thee to her arms. POET. She's false, I hate her perjur'd charms;
No, Love, I ne'er will love again. LOVE. But know, for thee I've toil'd to gain
Daphné, the bright, the reigning toast. POET. Daphné but cominon eyes can boast;
No, Love-I ne'er will love again. Love. She who before scorn'd every swain,
Dirce, shall for one sigh be thine. POET. Age makes her rays too faintly shine;
No, Love- ne'er will love again.
Flora, the young, the bright, the gay !
No, Love--I ne'er will love again.
Iternal for that fair and me!
THE AVDERING BEAUTY, The Graces and the wandering Loves
Are fled to distant plains,
To wound admiring 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'le'er resign?
Or you, like her, divine !
VENTS AND ADONIS.
SET BY MR. HANDEL.
Behold where weeping Venus stands !
And hark, she mourns, but mourns in vain,
Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy strain;
The lovely scene false joy inspires : The Naiads hear, and flock around;
For look, thou fond, deluded swain,
A rising storin invades the inain!
The planet of the night,
Inconstant, from thy sight Then vepts her grief, her love, and her despair.
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;
More inconstant proves than they.
Transform'd by heavenly power,
Fair rival to the god of day,
A thousand sprightly fruits we owe;
And every art t’improve the sense,
And every grace that shines below.
Not Phæbus 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
Unmov'd that turns his eyes on thee?
Yet brighter still thy glories shine,
When Beauty, dress'd in smiles of Love,
Grows, like its parent Heaven, divine !
SET BY DR. PEPUSCH.
The neighbouring sea was calm and bright; Love frowns in beauteous Myra's eyes; The shepherd sung inspir’d, and bless'd 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, Secret Night, my joys divining,
And wintry storms deface the year,
The prudent cranes no longer stay,
But take the wing, and through the air, While the sky and seas are shining,
From the cold region fly away,
And far o'er land and seas to warmer climes repaix
SET BY DR. PEPUSCH,