THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS. OVERTURE.-A SOLEMN DIRGE. AIR.-TRIO. ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise, CHORUS. When truth and virtue, &c. MAN SPEAKER. The praise attending pomp and power, Are but the trappings of an hour— Mere transitory things. The base bestow them; but the good agree To spurn the venal gifts as flattery. But when to pomp and power are join'd When titles are the smallest claim When wealth, and rank, and noble blood, 15 But aid the power of doing good Then all their trophies last; and flattery turns to fame. Blest spirit thou, whose fame, just born to bloom, Shall spread and flourish from the tomb, 20 Even now reproach and faction mourn, Alas! they never had thy hate; Unmoved, in conscious rectitude, A thousand gifts would fortune send; 25 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. In vain, to drive thee from the right, Like some well-fashion'd arch thy patience stood, SONG.—BY A Man,1 affettuoso. Virtue, on herself relying, In the hopes of being blest. WOMAN SPEAKER. Yet ah! what terrors frown'd upon her fate, 45 Death, with its formidable band, Fever, and pain, and pale consumptive care, Nor did the cruel ravagers design To finish all their efforts at a blow; But, mischievously slow, They robb'd the relic and defac'd the shrine. With unavailing grief, Despairing of relief, Her weeping children round Beheld each hour Death's growing pow'r, And trembled as he frown'd. As helpless friends who view from shore The labouring ship, and hear the tempest roar, 50 55 1Chalmers's version runs this song on to the lines for the "Man Speaker," but has the same words then repeated under "Song by a man," &c.-ED. While winds and waves their wishes cross,- The inevitable loss. Relentless tyrant, at thy call How do the good, the virtuous fall! Truth, beauty, worth, and all that most engage, SONG. BY A MAN.-BASSO, STACCATO, SPIRITOSO. When vice my dart and scythe supply, Fall, round me fall, ye little things, MAN SPEAKER. Yet let that wisdom, urged by her example, 60 65 70 75 As a safe inn, where weary travellers, When they have journey'd through a world of cares, 80 May put off life, and be at rest for ever. Groans, weeping friends, indeed, and gloomy sables, May oft distract us with their sad solemnity: Death, when unmask'd, shows me a friendly face, 85 For as the line of life conducts me on To Death's great court, the prospect seems more fair, 'Tis Nature's kind retreat, that's always open To take us in when we have drain'd the cup 90 Of life, or worn our days to wretchedness. Promiscuously recline; Where, wildly huddled to the eye, The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie, And, ah! blest spirit, wheresoe'er thy flight, May peace, that claim'd, while here, thy warmest love, SONG. BY A WOMAN.-AMOROSO. Lovely, lasting Peace below, 95 100 Comforter of every woe, 105 Heavenly born, and bred on high, Our vows are heard! Long, long to mortal eyes, Where modest want and patient sorrow dwell, Want pass'd for merit at her door, Her constant pity fed the poor, Then only poor, indeed, the day she died. 115 And, oh! for this, while sculpture decks thy shrine, 120 And art exhausts profusion round, The tribute of a tear be mine, A simple song, a sigh profound. There Faith shall come-a pilgrim grey, To bless the tomb that wraps thy clay: 125 Truth, Fortitude, and Friendship, shall agree AIR.-CHORUS.-POMPOSO. Let us-let all the world agree, 130 PART II. OVERTURE.- -PASTORALE. MAN SPEAKER. FAST by that shore where Thames'1 translucent stream Where, splendid as the youthful poet's dream, 135 While novelty, with cautious cunning, 140 From China borrows aid to deck the scene There, sorrowing by the river's glassy bed, All whom AUGUSTA's bounty fed, 145 All whom her clemency sustain'd; The good old sire, unconscious of decay, The modest matron, clad in home-spun grey, The military boy, the orphan'd maid, The shatter'd veteran, now first dismay'd, 150 These sadly join beside the murmuring deep, Call on their mistress-now no more-and weep. 1 The scene is Kew Palace, where the Princess resided, and the gardens of which she greatly improved, employing the famous architectgardener of the time, Chambers (afterwards Sir William), for the purpose.-ED. |