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Such were the scenes of our first parents' love, The poison'd shaft, the Parthian bow, and spear
In Eden's groves with equal flames they strove, Like that 'the warlike Moor is wont to wield,
While warbling birds, soft whispering breaths of Which, pois’d and guided, from his ear

He hurls impetuous through the field; And murmuring streams, to grace their nuptials in vain you lace the helm, and heave in vain the join'd.

All nature smil'd; the plains were fresh and green, He's only safe, whose armour of defence
Unstain'd the fountains, and the heavens serene. Is adamantine innocence.
Ye blest remains of that illustrious age !

If o'er the steepy Alps he go,
Delightful Springs and Woods!--

Vast mountains of eternal snow, Might I with you my peaceful days live o'er,

Or where fam'd Ganges and Hydaspes flow; You, and my friend, whose absence I deplore,

If o'er parch'd Libya's desert land, Calm as a gentle brook's unruffed tide

Where threatening from afar Should the delicious flowing minutes glide;

Th' affrighted traveller Discharg'd of care, on unfrequented plains,

Encounters moving hills of sand; We'd sing of rural joys in rural strains.

No sense of danger can disturb his rest; No false corrupt delights our thoughts should move,

He fears no human force, nor savage beast; But joys of friendship, poetry, and love.

Impenetrable courage steels his manly breast. While others fondly feed ambition's fire, And to the top of human state aspire,

Thus, late within the Sabine grove, That from their airy eminence they may

While free from care, and full of love, With pride and scorn th' inferior world survey,

I raise my tuneful voice, and stray
Here we should dwell obscure, yet happier far than Regardless of myself and way,

A grizly wolf, with glaring eye,
View'd me unarm’d, yet pass'd unhurtful by.

A fiercer monster ne'er, in quest of food,

Apulian forests did molest;

Numidia never saw a more prodigious beast; WITH A DRAWING (BY THE AUTHOR) OF CUPID. Numidia, mother of the yellow brood,

Where the stern lion shakes his knotted mane, When generous Dido in disguise caress'd

And roars aloud for prey, and scours the spacious This god, and fondly clasp'd him to her breast,

plain. Soon the sly urchin storm'd her tender heart, And amorous flames dispers'd through every part. Place me where no soft breeze of summer wind In vain she strove to check the new-born fire,

Did e'er the stiffen'd soil unbind, It scorn'd her weak essays, and rose the higher: Where no refreshing warmth e'er durst invade, In vain from feasts and balls relief she sought, But Winter holds his unmolested seat, The Trojan youth alone employ'd her thought: In all his hoary robes array'd, (beat. Yet Fate oppos’d her unrewarded care;

And rattling storms of hail, and noisy tempests Forsaken, scorn'd, she perish'd in despair.

Place me beneath the scorching blaze No such event, fair nymph, you need to fear, Of the fierce Sun's immediate rays, Smiles, without darts, alone attend him here; Where house or cottage ne'er were seen, Weak and unarm’d, not able to surprise,

Nor rooted plant or tree, nor springing green ;
He waits for influence from your conquering eyes. Yet, lovely Lalage, my generous flame
Heaven change the omen, then; and may this prove Shall ne'er expire; I'll boldly sing of thee,
A happy prelude to successful love!

Charm'd with the music of thy name,
And guarded by the gods of Love and Poetry.

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Otium Divos rogat in patenti
Prensus Ægæo, &c.



Hence, slavish Fear! thy Stygian wings display!

Thou ugly fiend of Hell, away!
Wrapp'd in thick clouds, and shades of night,

To conscious souls direct thy flight!
There brood on guilt, fix there a loath'd embrace,

And propagate vain terrours, frights,

Dreams, goblins, and imagin'd sprights,
Thy visionary tribe, thy black and monstrous race.

Go, haunt the slave that stains his hands in gore!
Possess the perjur'd mind, and rack the usurer more,

Than his oppression did the poor before. Vainly, you feeble wretches, you prepare

The glittering forgery of war:


LGENT Quiet! power serene,
Mother of Peace, and Joy, and Love!
O say, thou calm propitious queen,

Say, in what solitary grove,
Within what hollow rock, or winding cell,

By human eyes unseen,
Like some retreated Druid, dost thou dwell?

And why, illusive goddess' why,

When we thy mansion would surround,
Why dost thou lead us through enchanted ground,
To mock our vain research, and froin our wishes fiy

The vandering sailors, pale with fear,

Thee shining wealth and plenteous joys surround, For thee the gods implore,

And, all thy fruitful fields around, When the tempestuous sea runs high,

Unnumber'd herds of cattle stray. And when, through all the dark benighted sky, Thy harness'd steeds with sprightly voice No friendly moon or stars appear

Make neighbouring vales and hills rejoice, To guide their steerage to the shore:

While smoothly thy gay chariot flies o'er the swift For thee the weary soldier prays;

measur'd way. Farious in fight, the sons of Thrace,

To me the stars, with less profusion kind, And Medes, that wear majestic by their side

An humble fortune bave assign’d, A full-charg'd quiver's decent pride,

And no untuneful lyric vein, Gladly with thee would pass inglorious days,

But a sincere contented mind, Renounce the warrior's tempting praise, That can the vile malignant crowd disdain,

And buy thee, if thou might'st be sold, With gems, and purple vests, and stores of plunder'd




But neither boundless wealth, nor guards that wait

Around the consul's honour'd gate,

Nor anti-chambers with attendants fill'd,
The mind's unhappy tumults can abate,

Or banish sullen cares, that fly
Across the gilded rooms of state,

And their foul nests, like swallows, build
Close to the palace-roofs, and towers that pierce the

Much less will Nature's modest wants supply;

And happier lives the homely swain,
Whô, in some cottage, far from noise,
His few paternal goods enjoys,
Nor knows the sordid lust of gain,

Nor with Fear's tormenting pain

His hovering steps destroys.
Vain man! that in a narrow space
At endless game projects the daring spear |

For short is life's uncertain race:
Then why, capricious mortal! why

Dost thou for happiness repair
To distant climates, and a foreign air?

Fool! from thyself thou canst not fly,

Thyself, the source of all thy care.
So flies the wounded stag, prorok'd with pain,

Bounds o'er the spacious downs in vain;
The feather'd torment sticks within his side,

And from the smarting wound a purple tide Marks all his way with blood, and dyes the grassy

plain. But swifter far is execrable Care

Than stays, or winds that through the skies Thick-driving snows and gather'd tempests bear; Pu: suing Care the sailing ship out-lies,

Climbs the tall vessel's painted sides;
Nor leaves arm'd squadrons in the field,

But with the marching horsemen rides, iad dwells alike in courts and camps, and makes all

places yield.
Then, since no state's completely blest,
Let's learn the bitter to allay
With gentle mirth, and wisely gay
Enjoy at least the present day,

And leave to Fate the rest.
Nor with vain fear of ills to come
Anticipate th' appointed doom.
Soon did Achilles quit the stage,

The hero fell by sudden death;
White Tithon to a tedious wasting age

Drew his protracted breath.
And thus old partial Time, my friend,
Perhaps, unask'd, to worthless me
Those hours of lengthen'd life may lend,

Which he'll refuse to thee.

Once, on a solemn festal day

Held by th' immortals in the skies,
Flora had summon'd all the deities

That rule o'er gardens, or survey
The birth of greens and springing flowers,

And thus address'd the genial powers.
“ Ye shining Graces of my courtly train,

The cause of this assembly know!

In sovereign majesty I reign
O'er the gay flowery universe below;
Yet, my increasing glory to maintain,
A queen I'll choose with spotless honour fair,

The delegated crown to wear.
Let me your counsel and assistance ask,

T'accomplish this momentous task.”
The deities that stood around,
At first return'da murmuring sound;
Then said, “ Fair goddess, do you know
The factious feuds this must create,
What jealous rage and mutual hate

Among the rival flowers will grow?
The vilest thistle that infests the plain

Will think his tawdry painted pride

Deserves the crown; and, if deny'd, Perhaps with traitor-plots, molest your reign."

“ Vain are your fears, Flora reply'd,
"Tis fix'd-and hear how l'll the cause decider

“ Deep in a venerable wood

Where oaks, with vocal skill endued,
Did wondrous oracles of old impart,
Beneath a little hill's inclining side,

A grotto's seen where Nature's art
Is exercis'd in all her smiling pride.

Retir'd in this sweet grassy cell,

A lovely wood-nymph once did dwell.
She always pleas'd; for more than mortal fire

Shone in her eyes, and did her charms inspire;
A Dryad bore the beauteous nymph, a Sylvan was

(her sire.
Chaste, wise, devout, she still obey'd
With humblé zeal Heaven's dread commands,
To every action ask'd our aid,

And oft before our altars pray'd;
Pure was her heart, and undefil'd her hands.

She's dead and from her sweet remains

The wondrous mixture I would take,
This much desired, this perfect flower to make

Assist, and thus with our transforming pains, We'll dignify the garden-beds, and grace our fa

vourite plains.”


Th’applauding deities with pleasure heard, words, it may be proper to acquaint the public, And for the grateful work prepar'd.

that they are the first essays of this kind, and A busy face the god of Gardens wore;

were written as an experiment of introducing a Vertumnus of the party too,

sort of composition, which had never been na. From various sweets th' exhaling spirits drew: turalized in our language. Those who are affectWhile, in full canisters, Pomona bore

edly partial to the Italian tongue will scarce alOf richest fruits a plenteous store;

low music to speak any other; but if reason may And Vesta promis'd wondrous things to do. be admitted to have any share in these entertainGay Venus led a lively train

ments, nothing is more necessary than that the Of smiles and graces: the plump god of Wine words should be unilerstood, without which the From clusters did the flowing nectar strain,

end of vocal music is lost. The want of this eAnd filld large goblets with his juice divine. casions a common complaint, and is the chief, if

Thus charg'd, they seek the honour'd shade not the only reason, that the best works of Scar

Where liv'd and died the spotless maid. lati and other Italians, except those performed in On a soft couch of turf the body lay;

operas, are generally but little known or regarded Th’approaching deities press'd all around,

here. Besides, it may be observed, without any Prepar'd the sacred rites to pay

dishonour to a language which has been adorned In silence, and with awe profound.

by some writers of excellent genius, and was the Flora thrice bow'd, and thus was heard to pray.

first among the moderns in which the art of poetry “ Jove! migbty Jove! whom all adore,

was revived and brought to any perfection, that Exert thy great creative power!

in the great number of their operas, serenatas, Let this fair corpse be mortal clay no more;

and cantatas, the words are often much inferior to Transform it to a tree, to bear a beauteous flower'

the composition; and though, by their abounding Scarce had the goddess spoke, when see!

with vowels, they have an inimitable aptness and The nymph's extended limbs the form of branches facility for notes, the writers for music have not

always made the best use of this advantage, or Behold the wondrous change, the fragrant tree!

seem to, have relied on it so much as to have reTo leaves was turn'd her flowing hair;

garded little else; so that Mr. Waller's remark on And rich diffus'd perfumes regal'd the wanton air.

another occasion may be frequently applied to

them: Heavens ! what new charm, what sudden light, Improves the grot, and entertains the sight! Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song. A sprouting bud begins the tree t'adorn;

Yet so great is the force of sounds well chosen The large the sweet vermilion flower is born! The goddess thrice on the fair infant breath'd,

and skilfully executed, that, as they can hide inTo spread it into life, and to convey

different sense, and a kind of associated pleasure The fragrant soul, and every charm bequeath’d arises from the words though they are but mean;

so the impression cannot fail of being in proporTo make the vegetable princess gay:

tion much greater, when the thoughts are natural Then kiss'd it thrice: the genteral silence broke, And thus in loud rejoicing accents spoke.

and proper, and the expressions unaffected and

agreeable. Ye flowers at my command attendant here, Since, therefore, the English language, though Pay homage, and your sovereign Rose revere! inferior in smoothness, has been found not inca. No sorrow on your drooping leaves be seen; pable of harmony, nothing would perhaps be wantLet all be proud of such a queen,

ing towards introducing the most elegant style of So fit the floral crown to wear,

music, in a nation which has given such generous To glorify the day, and grace the youthful year." encouragements to it, if our best poets would someThus speaking, she the new-born favourite times assist this design, and make it their diversion

The transformation was complete; (crown'd, to improve a sort of verse, in regular measures, The deities with songs the queen of flowers did greet: purposely fitted for music, and which, of all the

Soft flutes and tuneful harps were heard to sound; modern kinds, seems to be the only one that can
While now to Heaven the well-pleas'd goddess flies now properly be called lyrics.
With her bright train, and reascends the skies. It cannot but be observed on this occasion, that

since poetry and music are so nearly allied, it is a
misfortune that those who excel in one are often

perfect strangers to the other. If, therefore, a SIX CANTATAS, OR POEMS FOR MUSIC, better correspondence were settled between the two

sister arts, they would probably contribute to eacb AFTER THE MANNER OF THE ITALIANS.

other's improvement. The expressions of har

mony, cadence, and a good ear, which are said Non antè vulgatas per artes

to be so necessary in poetry, being all borrowed

from music, show at least, if they signify any Verba loquor socianda chordis.

thing, that it would be no improper help for a Hor.

poet to understand more than the metaphorical THE PREFACE,

sense of them. And on the other hand, a com

poser can never judge where to lay the accent of AS IT WAS PRINTED BEFORE THE MUSIC.

his music, who does not know, or is not made sen

sible, where the words have the greatest beauty TO THE LOVERS OF MUSIC.

and force. MR.

R. Pepusch having desired that some account There is one thing in compositions of this sort should be prefixed to these cantatas relating to the which seems a little to want explaining, and that




is the recitative music, which many people hear without pleasure, the reason of which is, perhaps, Lovely isle! so richly blest! that they have a mistaken notion of it. They are Beauty's palm is thine confess'd. accustomed to think that all music should be air; Thy daughters all the world outshine, and being disappointed of what they expect, they Nor Venus' self is so divine. lose the beauty that is in it of a different kind. It Lovely isle ! so richly blest! may be proper to observe, therefore, that the re- Beauty's palm is thine confessid. citative style in composition is founded on that variety of accent which pleases in the pronunciation of a good orator, with as little deviation from

CANTATA II. it as possible. The Gifferent tones of the voice,

ALEXIS. in astonishinent, joy, sorrow, rage, tenderness in affirmations, apostrophes, interrogations, and all the varieties of speech, make a sort of natural music, which is very agreeable; and this is what See,-from the silent grove Alexis flies, is intended to be imitated, with some helps by the

And seeks with every pleasing art

To ease the pain, which lovely eyes composer, but without approaching to what we

Created in his heart. call a tune or air; so that it is but a kind of im

To shining theatres he now repairs, prored elocution or pronouncing the words in musical cadences, and is indeed wholly at the mercy

To learn Camilla's moving airs, of the performer to inake it agreeable or not, ac

Where thus to Music's power the swain address'd his cording to his skill or ignorance, like the reading

prayers. of verse, which is not every one's talent. This

Charming sounds! that sweetly languish, short account may possibly suffice to show how

Music, O compose my anguish! properly the recitative has a place in compositions

Every passion yields to thee; of any length, to relieve the ear with a variety, and to introduce the airs with the greater ad

Phæbus quickly then relieve me:

Cupid shall no more deceive me;
As to Mr. Pepusch's success in these compo-

I'll to sprightlier joys be free. sitions, I am not at liberty to say any more than

RECITATIVE, that he has, I think, very naturally expressed the

Apollo heard the foolish swain; sense of the words. He is desirous the public He knew, when Daphne once he lov'd, should be informed, that they are not only the first

How weak, t'assuage an amorous pain, he has attempted in English, but the first of any

His own harmonious art had prov'd, of his works published by himself; and as he And all his healing herbs how rain. wholly submits them to the judgment of the lovers Then thus he strikes the speaking strings, of this art, it will be a pleasure to him to find, that | Preluding to bis voice, and sings. his endeavours to promote the composing of music in the English language, after a new model, are Sounds, though charming, can't relieve thee; favourably accepted.

Do not, shepherd, then deceive thee,

Music is the voice of Love.
If the tender maid believe thee,

Soft relenting,

Kind consenting,

Will alone thy pain remove




When Beauty's goddess from the ocean sprung,

Ascending, o'er the waves she cast a smile

On fair Britannia's happy isle,
And rais'd her tuneful voice, and thus she sung.



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FRAGRANT Flora! haste, appear,

Goditess of the youthful Year!

Zephyr gently courts thee now:
On thy buds of roses playing,
All thy breathing sweets displaying,

Hark, bis amorous breezes blow!
Fragrant Flora! haste, appear!
Goddess of the youthful Year!
Zephyr gently courts thee now.

Thus on a fruitful hill, in the fair bloom of spring

The tuncful Colinet, his voice did raise,

The vales remurmur'd with his lays,
And listening birds hung hovering on the wing,
In whispering sighs soft Zephyr by him flew,
While thus the shepherd did his song renew.

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The god of Love his motion spies,
Love and pleasures gaily flowing,

Lays by the pipe, and shoots a dart
Come this charming season grace!

Through Corydon's unwary heart,
Smile, ye fair! your joys bestow ing,

Then, siniling, from his ambush fies;
Spring and youth will soon be going,

While in his room, divinely bright,
Seize the blessings ere they pass :

The reigning beauty of the groves surpris'd the Love and pleasures gaily flowing,

shepherd's sight. Come this charming season grace!

Who, from love his heart securing,

Can avoin th'enchanting pain?

Pleasure calls with voice alluring,

Beauty softly binds the chain.

Who, from love his heart securing,

Can avoid th' enchanting pain?
Miranda's tuneful voice and fame
Had reach'd the wondering skies;
From Heaven the god of Music came,

And own'd a pleas'd surprise ;

Then in a soft melodious lay,
Apollo did these grateful praises pay.

Airy Cloe, proud and young,
Matchless charmer! thine shall be

The fairest tyrant of the plain,
The highest prize of harmony.

Laugh'd at her adoring swain.
Phæbus ever will inspire thee,

He sadly sighd-she gayly sung,
And th' applauding world admire thee;

And wanton, thus reproach'd his pain.
All shall in tliv praise agree.
Matchless charmer! thine shall be

Leave me, silly shepherd, go, The highest prize of harmony.

You only tell me what I know,

You view a thousand charnis in me; The god then summond every Muse t' appear,

Then cease thy prayers, I'll kinder grow, And hail their sister of the quire; [hear,

When I can view such charms in thee. Smiling they stood around, her soothing strains to

Leave me, silly shepherd, go;
And fill'd her happy soul with all their fire. You only tell me what I know,

You view a thousand charms in me.
O Harmony! how wondrous sweet,
Dost thou our cares allay!

Amyntor, fir'd by this dis lain,
When all thy moving graces meet,

Curs'd the proud fair, and broke his chain; How softly dost thou stcal our easy hours away!

He rav'd, and at the scorner swore,
o Harmony! how wondrous sweet,

And row'd he'd be Love's fool no more
Dost thou our cares allay!

Brit Cloe smild, and thus she call'd him back again.

Shepherd, this I've done to prove thee,

Now thou art a man, I love thee:

And without a blush resign.

But ungrateful is the passion,

And destroys our inclination,

When, like slaves, our lovers whine.
Wuile Corydon the lonely shepherd try'd

Shepherd, this l've done to prove thee,
His tuneful flute, and charm'd the grove, Now thou art a man, I love thee,
The jealous nightingales, that strove

And without a blush resign.
To trace his notes, contending dy'd ;
At last he hears within a myrtle shade

An echo answer all his strain;
Love stole the pipe of sleeping Pan, and play'd;
Then with his voice decoys the listening swain.

Gay shepherd, to befriend thee,

FROM THE FRAGMENTS OP TYRTÆUS. Here pleasing scenes attend thee,

'TRANSLATED IN THE YEAR 1701, ON OCCASION OP O this way speed thy pace! If music can delight thee,

THE KING OF FRANCE'S BREAKING THE Or visions fair invite thee,

This bower's the happy place.
Gay shepherd, to befriend thee,

O SPARTAN youths! what fascinating charms Here pleasing scenes attend thee,

Have froze your blood ? why rust your idle arms? O this way speed thy pace!

When, with awaken'd courage, will you go,

And minds resolv'd, to meet the threat'ning foe? The shepherd rose, he gaz'd around,

What! shall our vile lethargic sloth betray And vainly sought the magic sound;

To greedy neighbours an unguarded prey








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