SONG OF THE SEA-FIGHT,

IN AMBOYNA.

WHO ever faw a noble fight,

That never view'd a brave fea-fight!
Hang up your bloody colours in the air,

Up with your fights, and your nettings pre

pare;

Your merry mates cheer, with a lufty bold

fpright,

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Now each man his brindice, and then to the

fight.

St. George, St. George, we cry,

The shouting Turks reply.

Oh now it begins, and the gun-room grows

hot,

Ply it with culverin and with small shot;

Hark, does it not thunder? no,

roar,

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'tis the guns

The neighbouring billows are turned into gore;
Now each man muft refolve to die,
For here the coward cannot fly.
Drums and trumpets toll the knell,
And culverins the paffing bell.

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Now, now they grapple, and now board amain; Blow up the hatches, they're off all again : Give them a broadfide, the dice run at all, Down comes the maft and yard, and tacklings fall;

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She grows giddy now, like blind Fortune's

wheel,

She finks there, the finks, the turns up her keel. Who ever beheld fo noble a fight,

As this fo brave, fo bloody fea-fight!

INCANTATION IN CEDIPUS.

TIR.CHUSE the darkest part o’th’grove,

Such as ghofts at noon-day love.
Dig a trench, and dig it nigh
Where the bones of Laius lie;
Altars rais'd, of turf or stone,
Will th' infernal pow'rs have none,
Answer me, if this be done?

ALL PR. "Tis done.

TIR. Is the facrifice made fit?
Draw her backward to the pit :
Draw the barren heifer back;
Barren let her be, and black.
Cut the curled hair that grows
Full betwixt her horns and brows:
And turn your faces from the fun,
Answer me, if this be done?

ALL P. "Tis done.

TIR. Pour in blood, and blood-like wine, To Mother Earth and Proferpine:

Mingle milk into the stream;

Feaft the ghofts, that love the steam :
Snatch a brand, from funeral pile:
Tofs it in, to make them boil:
And turn your faces from the fun,
Anfwer me, if this be done?
ALL P. 'Tis done.

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SONG,

IN ALBION AND ALBANIUS.

CEASE, Augufta! cease thy mourning,

Happy days appear,
God-like Albion is returning,
Loyal hearts to chear!

Every grace his youth adorning,
Glorious as the star of morning,
Or the planet of the year.

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SONG,

IN ALBION AND ALBANIUS.

ALBION, by the nymph attended,
Was to Neptune recommended,
Peace and plenty spread the fails;
Venus, in her shell before him,
From the fands in fafety bore him,
And supply'd Etefian gales.
Archon on the fhore commanding,
Lowly met him at his landing,

Crouds of people swarm'd around;
Welcome, rang like peals of thunder,
Welcome, rent the skies asunder,

Welcome, heaven and earth refound.

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