CCXI.

SONG

The SHEPHERD and SHEPHERDESS. A Cantata.

Shepherd.

T

RECITATIVE.

HE morning's freshness calls me forth,
To view creation crown the earth.

AIR.

Come, my Lucy, come away, Share with me this fun-fhine day, Sweets of May make nature gay,

Come, my Lucy, come away.

Shepherdess.

RECITATIVE.

Ah! help me, shepherd, do but see,

I'm ftung this moment by a bee.

Shepherd.

AIR.

If you from a wound that's fo small feel a pain,
Then think what you give to a true loving fwain,
When fcornful you fly from his pray'rs :

A bee's fingle fting but a little while fmarts,
But wounds for years fefter in fond shepherds' hearts,
When laffes will give themselves airs.

Shepherdefs.

Ah! fhepherd, ah! fhepherd, mankind, like the bee, Fly buzzing about ev'ry beauty they fee,

And when the believing fool'd maid,

O'ercome by their arts, feels the force of love's fting,
At once like the bee, the fhepherd takes wing,
And laughing he leaves her betray'd.

Shepherd.

RECITATIVE.

Then fix me at once for the rest of my life,

And from fhepherd and lass, let us be man and wife.

Shepherdefs.

AIR.

Maids well fhould beware ere to that they confent,
Those in hafte to be marry'd, at leisure repent ;

We should look ere we leap, 'tis a lottery for life, Where the blanks are all drawn by a man and his wife.

Shepherd.

Those who wed for mere wealth fuch misfortunes may prove, But we buy wedlock's tickets with true love for love, And fince friendship's the prize in the lott'ry for life, Wefhall ftand the beft chance when we're made man and wife.

Shepherdess.

Shall I liberty leave, and fubmit to be rul'd;

Το

my children a slave, by my husband be fool'd; The day spent in trouble, the night waste in ftrife! This is often the change from a maid to a wife.

Shepherd.

We a wife take, 'tis faid, e'er for better or worse;
Marriage, therefore, is either a bleffing or curse;
Let us fhew, by example, the bleffings of life
Can only be found in a man and his wife.

Shepherdess.

But fee the fun fetting the clouds skirt with gold,
And the lambs nibbling rifing, repair to their fold;
Let us homeward repair-

Вотн.

-And end us the ftrife;

And to-morrow, my dear, we'll be made man and wife.

SONG CCXII.

THE SHEPHERD'S COMPLAINT.

ALEXIS thun'd his fellow wains

Their rural fports and jocund ftrains;
Heaven fhield us all from Cupid's bow!
He loft his crook, he left his flocks,
And wand'ring thro' the lonely rocks,
He nourish'd endless woe.

The nymphs and fhepherds round him came,
His grief fome pity, others blame,
The fatal caufe all kindly feek;
He mingled his concerns with theirs,
He gave them back their friendly tears,
He figh'd, but could not speak.

Clarinda came among the rest,
And she too kind concern expreft,

And afk'd the reafon of his woe;
She afk'd, but with an air and mien
That made it easily forefeen

She fear'd too much to know.

The fhepherd rais'd his mournful head,
And will you pardon me, he said,
While I the cruel truth reveal?
Which nothing from my breaft fhould tear,
Which never fhould offend your ear,
But that you bid me tell.

'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain,
Since you appear'd upon the plain,
You are the cause of all my care;
Your eyes ten thousand dangers dart,
Ten thousand torments vex my heart,
I love, and I despair.

Too much Alexis have I heard,
'Tis what I thought, 'tis what I fear'd,
And yet I pardon you, fhe cried ;
But you fhall promise ne'er again

To breath your vows, or speak your pain ;
He bow'd, obey'd, and died.

SONG

CCXIII.

THE BIRKS OF INVERMAY.

T Invites the tuneful birds to fing;

HE fmiling morn, the breathing fpring,

And while they warble on each spray,
Love melts the universal lay;
Let us, Amanda, timely wife,

Like them, improve the hour that flies,
And in foft raptures waste the day
Among the birks of Invermay.

For foon the winter of the year,
And age, life's winter, will appear;
At this thy lively bloom will fade,
As that will ftrip the verdant shade:
Our tafte of pleasure then is o'er,
The feather'd fongfters please no more;
And when they droop, and we decay,
Adieu! the birks of Invermay.

Behold, the hills and vales around
With lowing herds and flocks abound;
The wanton kids and frisking lambs
Gambol and dance about their dams;
The bufy bee with humming noise,
And all the reptile kind rejoice:
Let us, like them, then fing and play
About the birks of Invermay.

HOPE. A Paftoral. Set by Mr Arne.

MY

furnish'd with bees,

banks they are
Whofe murmur invites one to fleep;

My grottos are shaded with trees,

And my hills are white over with sheep: I feldom have met with a lofs,

Such health do my fountains beftow; My fountains all border'd with mofs, Where the hare-bells and violets grow, Where the hare-bells and violets grow.

I have found out a gift for my fair,

I have found where the wood pigeons breed ; But let me that plunder forbear;

She'll fay 'twas a barbarous deed;
For he ne'er could be true, she averr'd,
Who could rob a poor bird of its young:
I lov'd her the more when I heard

Such tenderness fall from her tongue,
Such tenderness fall from her tongue.

But where does my Phillida ftray?

And where are her grots and her bow'rs?
Are the groves and the valleys as gay,
And the shepherds as gentle as ours?
The groves may perhaps be as fair,

And the face of the valleys as fine;
The fwains may in manners compare,
But their love is not equal to mine,
But their love is not equal to mine.

SONG

CCXV.

WINE, wine in the morning,

Makes us frolic and gay,

That like eagles we foar
In the pride of the day;
Gouty fots of the night
Only find a decay.

'Tis the fun ripes the grape,
And to drinking gives light;
So we imitate him

When by noon we're at height; They fteal wine who take it

When he's out of fight.

Boy, fill all the glaffes,

Fill them up now he fhines;

The higher he rifes

The more he refines,