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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
What can Music's power control?

She sigh'd this wondrous prayer:
When Nature's sleeping soul

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 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;
A God descending from above,

Art is vain to move desire.
To conquer Death and Hell.

If Nature once the fair incline,
There yet remains an hour of Fate,

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 trumpet's sound
Shall call the numerous nations under ground.

The numerous nations straight
Appear; and some with grief, and soine with joy,
Their final sentence wait.


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,
Triumphant o'er the flame, shall see

And opens a new world of flowers.
The world's last blaze.

Gay Plcasure here all dresses wears,
The toneful sisters shall embrace,

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;
Springs in each plant and blossom'd tree,
And charms in all I hear and see!

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?
Dapuse, the beautiful, the coy,

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;
Anak'd his lyre, and softly breath'd his amorous Or some romance, read lately o'er;

Like Homer's antique tale of Troy,
Fairest mortal! stav and hear;

And powers confederate to destroy
Cannot Love, with Music join'd,

Priain's proud house, the Dardan naine,
Touch thy unrelenting mind?

With him that stole the ravish'd dame,
Turn thee, leave thy trembling fear; And, to possess another's right,
Fairest mortal! stay and hear;

Durst the whole world to aris excite.
Cannot Love, with Music juin'd,

Come, gentle Sleep, my eye-lids close,
Touch thy unrelenting miud?

These dull impressions help me lose:



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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.
For see, where beauteous Thames does glide
Serene, but with a fruitful tide;
Free from extremes of ebb and flow,

Tyrant Cupid! when, relenting,
Not swellid too high, nor sunk too low:

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?
That trifling thing it was before.

But see! while to my passion voice I give,

Th' applauded beauty, doubly bright,
A WISH, TO THE NEW YEAR, Seems in the moving tale to take delight,

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,

But joys and griefs alike, once hurry'd o'er,
No longer now deserve a smile or tear;

Fear not, doubting fair! t approve me ;
Close the fantastic scenes-hut grace

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?
Tliy month, 0 Janus! gave me first to know

Smile, and every fear forego!
A mortal's trifling cares below;
My race of life began with thee.
Thus far, from great misfortunes free,
Contented, I my lot endure,

Nor Nature's rigid laws arraign,
Nor spurn at common ills in vain,

Which Folly cannot shun, nor wise Reflection cure.
But oh !--more anxious for the year to come,
I vould foreknow my future doom.

Then tell me, Janus, canst thou spy

Events that yet in embryo lie
Por mė, in Time's mysterious womb?

Tell me-nor shall I dread to hear,

A thousand accidents severe;
I'll fortify my soul the load to bear,
If Love rejected add not to its weight,

(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
Forbid my humble sacrifice,

Let murmuring strings with the soft voice combine
Or blast me with a killing frown;
If, Janus, this thou seest in store,

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;
Take back the gift thou didst bestow !

Condole my loss, and weep Devonia's fate.
Here let me lay my burthen down,
And cease to love in vain, and be a wretch no more.

Queen of cities! leave awhile

Thy beauteous smile,

Turn to tender grief thy joy.

From thy shore of Thames replying,

Gentlest Echoes, fainting, dying,
Wule on your blooming charms I gaze,

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.












And, hated by all tyrants, chose

The glory to have such his foes.”
Tis Fame's chief immortality,

Britannia, to be mourn'd by thee.

I know the loss; from midnight skies
III omens late did strike my eyes ;

Genius of Britain! give thy sorrows o'er:
Near the radiant northern car

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.
From rocks reporting,
Seas transporting,

Will the wafted sorrow bear.
Winds that fly

I own the new-arising light,
Will softly sigh,

I see paternal grandeur shine,
A star has left the British sphere.

Descending through th’ illustrious line,
Lands remote, &c.

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!
Bert. To shade his peaceful grave,

BOTH. And as thou, fying, growest old,
Let growing palms extend !

Still this happy race behold
ADC. To grace his peaceful grave,

In Britannia's court sublime,
Let hovering Lores attend !

To shade, &c.

To grace, &c.
BEST. And wakeful Fame defend,

AUG. And grateful Truth commend
ZOTE. The generous and the brave!




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.

No theatre such glories can display;
Here, let a weeping Cupid stand,
And wound himself with his owu dart;

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
Lofty birth and honours shining

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,
With eternal laurel binds.

That sees what eyes those gallant deeds inspire? Lofty birth and honours shining

Valour and Beauty still were Britain's claim,
Bring a light on noble minds,

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

beauties here.

LE P. Amour, je ne veux plus aimer;

J abjure à jamais ton empire:
Mon caur, lassé de son martire,

A résolu de se calmer.
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.
L’AM. Pour toi, j'ai pris soin d'enflamer

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.
LE P. Elle n'est plus dans le bel age;

Amour, je ne veux plus ainier.
L'Am. Mais si je t'aidois à charmer

La jeune, la brillante Flore.-
Tu rougis--vas-tu dire encore,

Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.
LE P. Non, dieu charmant, daigne former

Pour nous une chaine eternelle;
Mais pour tout ce qui n'est point elic,
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.

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?


OF MONSIEUR DE LA MOTTE. poet. No, Love-I ne'er will love again;

Thy tyrant empire I abjure:
My weary heart resolves to cure

Its wounds, and ease the raging pain.
LOVE. Fool! can t thou fly my happy reign?

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.
LOVE. But should I give thee charms t'obtain

Flora, the young, the bright, the gay !
I see thee blush-now, rebel, say,

No, Love--I ne'er will love again.
POET. No, charming god, prepare a chain

Iternal for that fair and me!
Yet still know every fair but she,
I've vowd I ne'er will love again.

THE AVDERING BEAUTY, The Graces and the wandering Loves

Are fled to distant plains,
To chase the fawns, or, decp in grores,

To wound admiring swains.
With their bright mistress there they stray,

Who turns her careless eyes
From daily triumphs; yet, each day,
Bebolds new triumphs in her way,

And conquers while she flies.
But see! implor'd by moving prayers,

To change the lover's pain,
Venus her harness'd doves prepares,

And brings the fair again.
Proud mortals, who this maid pursue,

Think you she'le'er resign?
Ceases, fools, your wishes to renew,
Till she gros flesh and blood like you,

Or you, like her, divine !





Behold where weeping Venus stands !
What more than mortal grief can move
The bright, th’immortal queen of love?
She beats her breast, she wrings her hands







And hark, she mourns, but mourns in vain,
Her beauteous, lov'd Adonis, slain.

Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy strain;
The bills and woods her loss deplore;

The lovely scene false joy inspires : The Naiads hear, and flock around;

For look, thou fond, deluded swain,
And Echo sighs, with mimic sound,

A rising storin invades the inain!
Adonis is no more!

The planet of the night,
Again the godd raves, and tears her hair:

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:
Dear Adonis, Beauty's treasure,

Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy strain
Now iny sorrow, once my pleasure;
O return to Venus' arins!

Hope beguiling,
Venus never will forsake thee;

Like the Moon and Ocean smiling,
Let the voice of Love o ertake thee,

Does thy easy faith betray;
And revive thy drooping charms.

Flora ranging,
Like the Moon and Ocean changing,

More inconstant proves than they.
Thus, queen of beauty, as the poets feign,
While thou didst call the lovely swain;

Transform'd by heavenly power,
The lovely swain arose a flower,
And, smiling, grac'd the plain.

And now he blooms, and now he fades;
Venus and gloomy Proserpine

Fair rival to the god of day,
Alternate claim his charms divine;
By turus restor'd to light, by turns he seeks the Beauty, to thy celestial ray

A thousand sprightly fruits we owe;
Gay wit, and moving eloquence,

And every art t’improve the sense,
Transporting joy,

And every grace that shines below.
'Tormenting fears,

Not Phæbus does our songs inspire,
Reviving siniles,

Nor did Cyllenius form the lyre,
Succeeding tears,

'Tis thou art music's living spring;
Are Cupid's various train.

To thee the poet tunes his lays,
The tyrant boy

And, sweetly warbling Beauty's praise,
Prepares his darts,

Describes the power that makes him sing,
With soothing wiles,
With cruel arts,

Painters from thee their skill derive,
And pleasure blends with pain.

By thee their works to ages live,
For ev’n thy shadows give surprise,
As when we vicw in crystal streams
The inorning Sun, and rising beanis,

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,
And double charms thy power improve,

When Beauty, dress'd in smiles of Love,

Grows, like its parent Heaven, divine !
OUNG Strephon, by his folded sheep,
Sat wakeful on the plains;
Love hell his weary eyes from sleep,
While, silent in the vale,

The listening nightingale,
Forgot her own, to hear his strains.

And now the beauteous queen of night,

Unclouded and serene,
Shels on the neighbouring sea her silver light;

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.
While the sky and seas are shining,
See, my Flora's charms they wear;

Mark, how, when sullen clouds appear, Secret Night, my joys divining,

And wintry storms deface the year,
Pleasd my amorous tale to hear,

The prudent cranes no longer stay,
Smiles, and softly turns her sphere.

But take the wing, and through the air, While the sky and seas are shining,

From the cold region fly away,
See, my Flora's charms they wear.

And far o'er land and seas to warmer climes repaix





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