THE

WHIM OF THE DAY,

(FOR 1793)

FAVOURITE SONGS, &c.

IN

THE PRISONER.

As performing at the King's Theatre, Haymarket.

NINA.

OW charming's a camp, where foldiers late and early,
With hair fo tightly trimm'd up, and powder'd fo
fine,

March, fhoulder, prefent; while the ferjeant fo furly,
Drills the young recruits in the rear of the line,
To a dub-a-dub-while fo merry

Beats the drummer-dub-a-dub.

Tho' bluff they look and fierce, that no lions fure are bolder,

Yet the damfels don't fear 'em; nay, one, as I live,

Came

Came and afk'd me to give her my heart: but I told her, Says I, That's bespoke,, and I've nothing else to give, But dub-a-dub ever merry

Beats the drummer dub-a-dub.

NARCISSO.

Trall like the dew upon fympathy's breaft;
EARS that exhale ftom the springs of good nature,
Wishes reviving, bloom with freth beauty,
And in gay colours are gaudily dreft,

Yet, when I think on the danger that threatens,
Fear blights my bofom with doubt and difmay,
Fond expectation, all cheerlefs and languid,
Droops, drops its bloffom, and withers away

!

CO

CLARA.

NOME from horror's dreary cell,
Where jealoufy delights to dwell-
Come, fall revenge, that never fleeps

Revenge her fang in mortal poifon fleeps;

And madly laughs and weeps,

And fimiles at rival's pangs, and acts the deeds of hell.
Come, thou that art above controul,

Roufe my vaft purpofe-fill my madden'd' foul!

WH

BERNARDO

HENE'ER the bade me cease to plead
Her breaft wou'd gently heave,

And prov'd her lip beguit dia heart

Ill practis'd to deceive.

As fwelling waves that feem inclin'd,
To greet the fhores they leave behind.

W

PASQUAL.

HERE the banners of glory are freaming,
Her image fill lingers above;

And her eyes feem all terribly gleaming,
Which glow'd but with tranfports of love.

Deeds of arms my foul infpire,"
As the battling thunders roll,
She and fame my bofom fire,

And to conqueft light my foul:
And mid flaughter madly wounding,
Heroes dying, groans refounding,
Armour clafhing,

Lightning flashing,

Angel pinion'd o'er her lover,
With protecting wing fhe'll hover;
Valour's genius-memory's pleasure,
Guardian of life's facred treasure.

What can check the foldier's course,
Who, where war delights to rove,
Strike with more than mortal force,
Urg'd by fame, impell'd by love?

MARCOS.

DESPAIR around my head

It's horror flings,
My wish to live
No longer clings,
All hope is fled,

And

And in its flead,

Mifery flaps it's raven wings.

Sound alarms!

Sound alarms!

Amid the fhades of night,

Let war fires flash a blaze of light
While victory ftrides before you;
Since for life and for freedom, we fight
Let the foul beat to arms,

6

And the word be— Death or glory

POOR

CLARA

(Original Scotch.)

DOR Carlos fued a beauteous maid,
On her his happiness flaking;

She frown'd upon his love-he figh'd
Ah me my heart is breaking.

She took a fwain of large domains,
His humble love forfaking,
He thought her happy,, and he fimild
Although his heart was breaking.

On wealth alone few joys attend,
She found with anguifh aching
He funk, and gave her fuch a look,
Juft as his heart was breaking.

MARCOS.

ODDESS of liberty, my foul infpire,

G Light up the glowing Hamac

A

At virtue's facred fire;

Genius of domeftic joycherub of fame,
Love the while,

With many a dimpled fimile,
My eager hope fhall raife,

And with his bufy torch augment the blaze,
Proclaiming thro' valley, o'er hill, and thro' grove

The

grave

of war is the cradle of love.

Favourite AIRS in the OPERA of the PIRATES.

AIR AURORA,

LOVE, like the opening flower,
That courts the morning dew,

Gave promife every hour
To bring new charms to view.

But fee the fatal ftorm
Of tyrant power arife!
Blighted its beauteous form,
The hapless flow'ret dies.

THE

HERE, the moon-filver'd waters roam, And wanton o'er the unsteady fand, Spangling with their ftarry foam,

The tow'ring clift that guards the land.

There, the fcreaming fea bird flits,
Dips in the wave his dulky form;
Or on the rocking turret fits,
Th' exulting Dæmon of the form.

There