SONG.-By a WOMAN Each day, each hour, her name I'll bless, The hardy veteran after struck the sight, O'er Afric's sandy plain, And wild the tempest howling But every danger felt before, The raging deep, the whirlwind's roar, Oh, let me fly a land that spurns the brave, SONG.-By a MAN.-Basso, Spiritoso For thine and Britain's wrongs they feel, WOMAN Speaker In innocence and youth complaining, Affliction o'er each feature reigning, Kindly came in beauty's aid; Every grace that grief dispenses, Every glance that warms the soul, 200 210 220 In sweet succession charm'd the senses, While pity harmoniz'd the whole. 230 'The garland of beauty' ('tis thus she would say), 'No more shall my crook or my temples adorn, But alas! that return I never shall see: The echoes of Thames shall my sorrows proclaim, There promis'd a lover to come, but, O me! 'Twas Death,-'twas the death of my Mistress that came. But ever, for ever, her image shall last, I'll strip all the spring of its earliest bloom; On her grave shall the cowslip and primrose be cast, And the new-blossom'd thorn shall whiten her tomb.' SONG.-By a WOMAN.-Pastorale With garlands of beauty the Queen of the May No more will her crook or her temples adorn; For who'd wear a garland when she is away, When she is remov'd, and shall never return. 240 On the grave of Augusta these garlands be plac'd, On the grave of Augusta this garland be plac'd, ΤΗ EPITAPH ON THOMAS PARNELL HIS tomb, inscrib'd to gentle Parnell's name, That leads to truth through pleasure's flowery way! More lasting rapture from his works shall rise, J THE CLOWN'S REPLY OHN TROTT was desired by two witty peers To tell them the reason why asses had ears. 'An't please you,' quoth John, 'I'm not given to letters, Nor dare I pretend to know more than my betters; Howe'er from this time I shall ne'er see your graces, As I hope to be saved! without thinking on asses.' EDINBURGH, 1753. EPITAPH ON EDWARD PURDON H ERE lies poor Ned Purdon, from misery freed, He Ted such a damnable life in this world, I don't think he'll wish to come back. EPILOGUE FOR MR. LEE LEWES HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense; I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience. [Takes off his mask. Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth? Ay, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating : 'Twas thus that Æsop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood, 20 30 'The deuce confound,' he cries, 'these drumstick shanks, And cavill'd at his image in the flood. They never have my gratitude nor thanks; How piercing is that eye! how sleek that brow! Whilst his strong limbs conspire to set him free, 40 [Taking a jump through the stage-door. THE CAPTIVITY: AN ORATORIO ACT I SCENE-Israelites sitting on the banks of the Euphrates RECITATIVE YE captive tribes, that hourly work and weep, Where flows Euphrates murmuring to the deep, Suspend awhile the task, the tear suspend, CHORUS OF ISRAELITES Our God is all we boast below, And though no temple richly drest, We'll make His temple in our breast, SECOND PROPHET RECITATIVE That strain once more; it bids remembrance rise, ΤΟ Ye hills of Lebanon, with cedars crown'd, Ye Gilead groves, that fling perfumes around, These hills how sweet! those plains how wondrous fair! But sweeter still when Heaven was with us there. AIR O Memory, thou fond deceiver! And turning all the past to pain: Hence, deceiver most distressing! FIRST PROPHET RECITATIVE Yet why repine? What, though by bonds confin'd, And should we mourn? Should coward Virtue fly, And as our fortune sinks, our wishes soar. AIR The triumphs that on vice attend The good man suffers but to gain, As aromatic plants bestow SECOND PROPHET RECITATIVE But hush, my sons! our tyrant lords are near, 20 |