CANTATA I. The VOLUNTEER.
1 DEEP in a forest's shadowy seat,
2 A youth enjoy'd his calm retreat,
3 Deaf to the din of civil rage,
4 And discord of the impious age;[Page 256]
5 When visionary sleep depress'd
6 His drowsy lids, and thus alarm'd his rest.
7 Two rival forms immensely bright
8 Appear'd, and charm'd his mental sight;
9 Honour and Pleasure seem'd descending,
10 On each her various train attending,
11 Of decent, sober, great, and plain,
12 Of gay, fantastick, loud, and vain.
13 With confident, yet charming grace,
14 Pleasure first brake the silence of the place.
15 Enjoy with me this calm retreat,
16 Dissolv'd in ease thine hours shall flow:
17 With love alone thy heart shall beat,
18 And this be all th' alarms you know:
19 Cares to sooth, and life befriend,
20 Pleasures on your nod attend.
21 Cares to sooth, and life befriend,
22 Pleasures on your nod attend.
23 Her decent front strait Honour shew'd,
24 Where mingled scorn and anger glow'd;
25 Contempt of Pleasure's flow'ry reign,
26 Inrag'd at all her abject train;
27 And thus in rapid strains express'd
28 The tumults of her honest breast.
29 Rise, youth — thy country calls thee from thy shade;
30 Behold her tears,
31 And hear her cries:
32 Religion fears,
33 And Freedom dies,
34 Amid the horrors of War's dreadful trade.
35 Thy country groans: forego thy shade —
36 'Tis Honour calls thee to her aid.
37 Thy country groans: forego thy shade —
38 'Tis Honour calls thee to her aid.
39 The youth awoke — and starting wide,
40 Sleep, with its vision, left his side.
41 His soul th' idea fill'd alone;
42 The heroick form, the piercing tone
43 Of Honour on his memory play'd,
44 And all his heart confess'd the heav'nly maid.
45 Sweet object of my choice,
46 Adieu, thou calm recess!
47 My bleeding country's voice
48 Tears me from thy embrace.
49 From musing water-falls,
50 From shades and flow'ry meads,
51 'Tis virtuous Honour calls,
52 And princely WILLIAM leads.
53 From all a father's love,
54 From all a nation's care,
55 Behold where BRITAIN'S Jove
56 Sends forth his god of war:
57 'Gainst mountains cap'd with snows,
58 'Gainst foul Rebellion's rage
59 The willing Hero goes
60 Gigantick war to wage —
61 The gen'rous heart what flow'ry scenes can please,
62 Or tempt to waste his youth in useless ease!
63 The gen'rous heart what flow'ry scenes can please,
64 Or tempt to waste his youth in useless ease!
CANTATA II. The POET.
65 Give me, indulgent Muse, to rove
66 The mazes of thy laurel'd grove,
67 To choose a wreath for WILLIAM'S brow
68 Above Sybilla's golden bough.
69 I walk — I wander here and there —
70 How can I choose where all is fair?
71 This I prefer, and that refuse —
72 Guide me, my still-inspiring Muse.
73 I said, and pluck'd the chosen wreath:
74 Large drops of blood distill'd beneath;[Page 259]
75 A sigh now shook the weeping tree,
76 And thus a vocal sound
77 Brake from the recent wound,
78 And set the form of beauteous Daphne free.
79 Coy Daphne you behold in me;
80 For WILLIAM'S sake I willing bleed.
81 No wreath but this from Phoebus' tree
82 Is worthy him, who Britain freed.
83 Less fair was Phoebus' chace for unsought fame,
84 Be his the wreath, who woo'd and won the dame.
CANTATA III. The PAINTER.
85 Sweet mimick thou of Nature's face,
86 Thy pencil take, thy colour spread:
87 On thy canvas curious trace
88 Every virtue, every grace,
89 That hovers round our WILLIAM'S head.
90 Let Victory before him fly,
91 And Fortitude with stedfast eye;
92 Let Prudence with her mirrour haste,
93 Studious of future by the past;
94 With Industry in vigour blooming,
95 And Science knowing much, yet less assuming.[Page 260]
96 To group the piece, and swell the train,
97 With Hydra heads Rebellion draw,
98 Spouting at ev'ry vein
99 The blood of thousands slain;
100 Thousands too few to glut her rav'nous maw:
101 Paint her panting, sinking, dying,
102 Paint her sons at distance flying:
103 Paint Britannia full of smiles,
104 Scarce recover'd from her toils:
105 Paint Justice ready to avenge her pain,
106 Dragging the monster in her massy chain.
107 Near her paint Mercy crown'd: soft-smiling let her stand,
108 With arm out-stretch'd to stop her just, determin'd hand.
109 Cease to declaim, the artist cries,
110 Of ev'ry virtue, ev'ry grace, —
111 See, by degrees the features rise:
112 Behold them all in WILLIAM'S face.
CANTATA IV. The MUSICIAN.
113 O various power of magick strains,
114 To damp our joys and sooth our pains!
115 Ev'ry movement of the will
116 Obedient owns the artist's skill.
117 Thus in gay notes, and boastful words,
118 The master of the tuneful chords;[Page 261]
119 But soon he found his boast was air,
120 His love still blasted with despair,
121 And Chloe cold, or seeming cold
122 To all the tuneful tales he told.
123 To love when he tun'd the soft lyre,
124 It sigh'd and it trembled in vain;
125 Tho' warm'd by his amorous fire,
126 The fair one, ne'er answer'd his strain.
127 Hear, cries the artist, pow'r divine,
128 Great leader of the tuneful Nine;
129 Teach thy votary to swell
130 With love-inspiring strains the shell,
131 Such as please my Chloe best,
132 And easiest glide into her breast.
133 No more I woo in warbling strains,
134 No more I sing the lover's pains
135 To cold and careless ears:
136 To warlike notes I tune the string,
137 The song to WILLIAM'S praise I sing —
138 The nymph with rapture hears.
CANTATA V. The SHEPHERD.
139 Beneath an oak's indulgent shade
140 A shepherd at his ease was laid;[Page 262]
141 He pluck'd the bough, the wreath he wove
142 Sacred to WILLIAM, and to love,
143 And taught the vocal woods around
144 His name and Delia's to resound.
145 Of peace restor'd the shepherd sung,
146 And plenty smiling o'er the fields;
147 Of peace restor'd the woodlands rung,
148 And all the sweets that quiet yields;
149 Of love he sung and Delia's charms,
150 And all restor'd by WILLIAM'S arms.
151 Driv'n from his native soil belov'd,
152 By cost and care not unimprov'd,
153 A northern swain himself betook
154 To rest, in that sequester'd nook.
155 One fav'rite lamb escap'd the spoil,
156 The only meed of all his toil;
157 Which now o'erspent he drove before,
158 Now fondling in his bosom bore.
159 He heard, and strait the cause requir'd,
160 With wonder more than envy fir'd.
161 Say, swain, by what good pow'r
162 Thou wing'st the fleeting hour,
163 With strains that wonder move,
164 And tell of case and love;[Page 263]
165 While I by war's alarms
166 Am forc'd from safety's arms;
167 From home and native air,
168 And all their social care.
169 Say, swain, &c.
170 Again, replied the swain, repair
171 To northern fields and native air;
172 Again thy kindly home review,
173 And all its social cares renew.
174 Within what cave, or forest deep,
175 To grief indulgent, or to sleep,
176 Hast thou escap'd the gen'ral joy,
177 Sweet gift of BRITAIN'S fav'rite BOY?
178 'Twas WILLIAM'S toil this leisure gave,
179 By him I tune my oaten reed,
180 By him yon golden harvests wave,
181 By him these herds in safety feed:
182 Him shall our grateful songs declare
183 Ever to British shepherds dear.
184 Him shall our grateful songs declare
185 Ever to British shepherds dear.
CANTATA VI. The RELIGIOUS.
186 Here, tyrant Superstition, ugly fiend,
187 Harpy with an angel's face,
188 Monster in Religion's dress,
189 Thy impious pray'rs and bloody visions end.
190 Hence, with thy sister Persecution, go —
191 Hence with all her pleasing dreams
192 Of martyrs' groans, and virgins' screams,
193 The stretching rack, and horrid wheel,
194 Slow fires, and consecrated steel,
195 And ev'ry priestly implement of woe,
196 And ev'ry threat'ned tool of hoodwink'd zeal,
197 Ingenious Rome can find, or tortur'd Nature feel.
198 From Britain's happier clime repair
199 To southern suns and slavish air —
200 To empty halls,
201 To midnight bells,
202 To cloister'd walls,
203 To gloomy cells
204 Where moping Melancholy dwells —
205 WILLIAM'S name shall reach you there,
206 And sink your souls with black despair.
207 The Hero comes, and with him brings
208 Fair Hope, that soars on Cherub's wings;[Page 265]
209 Firm Faith attends with stedfast eye,
210 Intent on things above the sky,
211 To mortal ken unknown; and She,
212 Meek and seemly, kind and free,
213 Ever hoping, still believing,
214 Still forbearing, still forgiving,
215 Greatest of the heavenly Three.
216 Britons, join the godlike train,
217 Learn, that all but Truth is vain,
218 And to her lyre attune your joy:
219 No gifts so pure as those she brings,
220 No notes so sweet as those she sings,
221 To praise the heav'nly-favour'd BOY.