Thy father Peneus feels my pain;
See! how his ofiers gently bow,
And feem my secret foul to know—

DAPH. [afide.] Alas! my rafh, my fatal vow!
APOL. Wilt thou alone unmov'd remain ?

[As Daphne is going out, fhe ftops, and fings the following air.

DAPHN E.

Shall I return- -or no?Charms yet unknown furround me; Yet, Love, thou ne'er fhalt wound me,

SCENE changes to the River.

Re-enter DAPHNE, looking back as affrighted

DAPHNE.

He comes the fwift pursuer comes—O where
Shall I escape his piercing fight,

Where hide me from the God of Light ?
Ah! 'tis in vain—he's here.

[DAPHNE runs to the fide of the river, and a
fhe fings the following air is transformed into
a laurel-tree.

Father Peneus, hear me, aid me!
Let fome fudden change invade me,
Fix me rooted on thy fhore.
Ceafe, Apollo, to perfuade me,
I am Daphne now no more.—

[APOLLO enters at the latter end of the air,
and is inet by Peneus.

APOLLO.

O fatal flight!-O curft difdain!
O Peneus, how fhall we our lofs deplore?
But fee!

The trembling branches yet her shape retain!
Though Daphne lives a nymph no more,
She lives, fair verdant plant, in thee :
Henceforth be thou Apollo's tree,

And hear what honours to thy leaves remain.

No

No thunder e'er fhall blaft thy boughs,
Preferv'd to grace Apollo's brows,
Kings, victors, poets, to adorn;

Oft in Britannia's ifle thy profperous green
Shall on the heads of her great chiefs be seen,
And by a Naffau, and a George, be worn.

PENEU S..

Still Peneus, with a father's care,
Shall feed thee from his flowing urn

With verdure ever fresh and fair,

Nor this thy deftin'd change shall mourn.

CHORUS, or Duetto of Apollo and Pencus.
Nature alone can love infpire,

Art is vain to move defire.

If nature once the fair incline,
To their own paffion they refign.
Nature alone can love infpire,
Art is vain to move defire..

AN

ST. DAVID'S DAY, THE FIRST OF MARCH, 1715-16.

SET TO MUSIC BY DR. PEPUSCH,

And performed at the Anniversary Meeting of the Society of ANCIENT BRITONS, eftablished in Honour of Her Royal Highness's Birth-Day, and of the Principality of Wales.

"Salve læta dies! meliorque revertere femper,
"A populo rerum digna potente coli!

Q 3

OVID.