R O N D EL A Y.

CHLO

1. YHLOE found Amyntas lying, All in tears upon

the plain; Sighing to himself, and crying,

Wretched I, to love in vain!
Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain !

II.
Sighing to himself, and crying,

Wretched I, to love in vain ! Ever scorning and denying

To reward your faithful swain : Kiss me, dear, before my dying; Kiss me once, and ease my pain!

III. Ever scorning, and denying

To reward your faithful swain: Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him, that he lov'd in vain: Kiss me, dear, before my dying ; Kiss me once, and ease my pain!

IV. Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him, that he lov'd in vain : But repenting, and complying,

When he kiss'd, she kiss'd again : Kiss'd him up before his dying ;

Kiss'd him up, and eas'd his pain.

A S O N

G.

G

:

I.
O tell Amynta, gentle swain,
J I would not die, nor dare complain :
Thy tuneful voice with numbers join,
Thy words will more prevail than mine.
To fouls oppress’d, and dumb with grief,
The gods ordain this kind relief;
That music should in sounds convey,
What dying lovers dare not say.

II.
A sigh or tear, perhaps, the'll give,
But love on pity cannot live.
Tell her that hearts for hearts were made,
And love with love is only paid.
Tell her my pains so fast increase,
That soon they will be past redress;
But ah! the wretch, that speechless lies,
Attends but death to close his eyes.

A Song to a Fair Young Lady, going out of Town in the Spring.

AS

I.
SK not the cause, why sullen Spring

So long delays her flowers to bear ;
Why warbling birds forget to fing,

And winter storms invert the year :
Chloris is gone, and fate provides
To make it Spring, where she resides.

II.
Chloris is gone, the cruel fair;

She cast rot back a pitying eye :
But left her lover in despair,

To figh, to languish, and to die :
Ah, how can those fair eyes endure
To give the wounds they will not cure !

UI.
Great god of love, why haft thou made

A face that can all hearts command,
That all religions can invade,

And change the laws of ev'ry land ?
Where thou hadft plac'd such power before,
Thou shouldst have made her mercy more.

IV.
When Chloris to the temple comes,

Adoring crowds before her fall ;
She can restore the dead from tombs,
Anc
every

life but mine recall.
I only am by Love design'd
To be the victim for mankind.

ALEXAND'er's F E AST:

OR, THE

POWER of MUSIC,

An Ode, in Honour of St. CECILIA's Day,

I.

'TWA

WAS at the royal feast, for Persia won

By Philip's warlike son:
Aloft in awful state
The godlike hero fate

On his imperial throne :

His valiant peers were plac'd around;
Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound,

(So should defert in arms be crown'd:)
The lovely Thais, by his fide,
Sate like a blooming Eastern bride
In flower of youth and beauty's pride,

Happy, happy, happy pair!
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the brave deserves the fair,

CHORU S.
Happy, happy, happy pair!
None but the brave,
None but the brave,
None but the trave deserves the fair.

Tinotheus,

II.
Timotheus, plac'd on high

Amid the tuneful quire,

With flying fingers touch'd the lyre:
The trembling notes ascend the sky,

And heavenly joys inspire.
The fong began from Jove,
Who left his blissful seats above,
(Such is the power of mighty love.)
A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god :
Sublime on radiant spires he rode,

When he to fair Olympia press'd:

And while he fought her snowy breaft:
Then, round her slender waist he curl'd,
And ftamp'd an imageof himself, asov'reign of the world,
The lif’ning croud admire the lofty sound,
A present deity, they fout around:
A present deity the vaulted roofs rebound:

With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Afsumes the god

Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.

CHORU S.
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Afjumes the god,

Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.

III.
The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet mufician sung;
Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young:

The jolly god in triumph comes;
Sound the trumpets; beat the drums;

Flush'd with a purple grace

He fhews his honest face:
Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.

Bacchus