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GLEE for Five Voices.

R. J. S. Stevens. Some of my heroes are low,” I hear the sound of death on the harp. Bid the sorrow rise; that their spirits may fly with joy to Morven's woody hills ; “ bend forward from your clouds," ghosts of my fathers; bend ! Lay by the red terror of your course, receive the falling chief; whether he comes from a distant land, or rises from the rolling sea. And oh ! let his countenance be lovely, that his friends may delight in his presence. Bend forward from your clouds, “ ghosts of my fathers,” bend!


GLEE for Five Voices.

Dr. Cooke.

Sophrosyne,* thou guard unseen,

Whose delicate controul
Can turn the discord of chagrin

To harmony of soul.

Above the lyre, the lute above,

Be mine thy melting tone,
Which makes the peace of all we love,
The basis of our own.

Wm. Hayley, Esq. * Euphrosyne.

GLEE for Four Voices.

J. DANBY. Sweet thrush ! that makes the vernal year Sweeter than Flora can appear; As Philomel attends thy lay, She envies the return of day. The tuneful lyre and swelling flute, At thy rich warbling shall be mute; Vocal Minstrel ! thy soft lay Treasures up, and ends the May ; Hark! how the blackbird woos his love, The skill'd musician of the grove ; On thorn, as perch’d, he nobly sings, A cadence for the best of kings; Sublime and soft, gay and serene, A virginal to hail a queen : Nature's music thus improves, All the graces and the loves.

GLEE for Three Voices.

S. WEBBE. SURLY Giles's old cat was shut out of the house; How she plagu'd him all night, without catching a mouse! With her mew, sick to death, surly Giles rose in haste, And vow'd that no longer his moments he'd waste ; So he took up a stick, as he jump'd out of bed, And swore he would knock the old cat o'the bead.

Dr. Callcott.

GLEE for Four Voices.

Mr. Wm. LinLey.. Sweet Echo! sleeps thy vocal shell, Where the high arch o'erhangs the dell ; Where Tweed, with sun reflecting streams, Chequers thy rocks with dancing beams ?

Here may no clamours harsh intrude,
No brawling hound or clarion rude;
Here no fell beast at midnight prowl,
And teach thy tortured cliffs to howl.

Be thine to pour these vales among
Some artless shepherd's ev'ning song,
Whilst night's sad bird, on some lone spray,
Responsive listens to thy lay.

Or if, like me, some love-lorn maid,
Should sing her sorrows to the shade,
Oh! soothe her breast, ye rocks around,
With softest sympathy of sound.

Dr. Darwyn.


GLEE for Four Voices.

J. S. SMITA. STAY, shepherd, stay! I prithee stay! Did not you see her go this way? Where can she be! can you not guess! Alas! I've lost my shepherdess !

I fear some satyr has bet ray’d,
My wand'ring nymph out of the shade;
Oh! woe is me! I am undone,
For, in the shade, she was my sun.

The pink, the violet, and the rose,
Strive to salute her as she goes ;
Nay, be content to kiss her shoe,
The primrose, and the daisie too.

Ob! woe is me! what must I do?
Or whom must I complain unto
Methinks the vallies cry, forbear,
And sighing say, she is not here..

• Oh! what shall I, unhappy, do?
Or whom must I complain unto ?
Where may she be, can you not guess,
Where I may find my shepherdess ?


* This Verse not in the Glee.

GLEE for Three Voices.

R. SPOFFORTH.-Prize, 1793. See, smiling from the rosy east,

The harbinger of day
Pours, with majestic lustre dress'd,

The treasures of his ray:
No more her charms Aurora shrouds
Behind the sullen veil of clouds;
But sheds profuse her animating pow'rs,
And from their wint'ry sleep, awakes the flow'rs.

MADRIGAL for Five Voices.

JOHN WILBYE,-1609. Sweet honey sucking bees! why do you still

Surfeit on roses, pinks, and violets ? As if the choicest nectar lay in them

Wherewith ye store your curious cabinets.

Ah! make your flight to Mellisuavia's lip,

There may ye revel in ambrosian cheer ; Where smiling roses and sweet lilies sit,

Keeping their spring-tide graces all the year.

Yet, sweet, take heed ! all sweets are hard to get,

Sting not her soft lips ; O beware of that ! For if one flaming dart comes from her eye,

Was never dart so sharp; ab, then you die!

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