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ROUND for Three Voices.

L. ATTERBURY. Sweer enslaver can you tell, How I learn'd to love so well? In the morning when I rise, If the sunshine strike mine eyes, All that pleases in his view Is my hope to look on you.

GLEE for Four Voices.

S. WEBBE, Jun. Sweet stream, that winds thro' yonder glade, Apt emblem of a virtuous maid ; Silent and pure she glides along, Far from the world's gay busy throng: With gentle yet prevailing force, Intent upon her destin'd course; Graces attend on all she does, Blessing and blest where'er she goes.

Lydia Piggott. GLEE for Four Voices.

WM. KNYVETT. Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind, Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days o’Lang Syne ?
For auld Lang Syne, my dear,

For auld Lang Syne,
We'll tak'a cup of kindness yet
For auld Lang Syne.

For auld Lang Syne, my dear, &c.

We twa hae' run about the braes,

And pu'd the gowans fine,
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot,
Sin' auld Lang Syne.

For auld Lang Syne, my dear, &c.

We twa hae' paidlet in the burn,

Frae morning sun till dine,
And we'll tak’a cup o'kindness yet,
For auld Lang Syne.

For auld Lang Syne, my dear, &c.

From an Old MS. in G. Thompson's

Possession.-See Scotch Songs.

MADRIGAL for Six Voices.

LUCA MARENZIO. So saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris, When now and then she talketh With me of love. Love is a sprite that walketh, That soars and flies, And none alive can hold him, Nor touch him, nor behold him ; Yet when her eyes she turneth, I spy where he sojourneth, In her eyes There he flies, But none can catch him, Till from her lips he fetch him.

From the Musica Transalpina, 1599.

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GLEE for Four Voices,

Dr. Cooke. Sweet nymph! for thee I twin'd those flow'rs,

Which you so scoff at with disdain ; Let Flora's gifts these May-born hours,

Plead both my passion and my pain.

O come, ye Muses, to my aid,

Breathe tender notes, my voice inspire ! For music may obtain the maid,

And melt her heart to soft desire.


GLEE for Three Voices.

Dr. Cooke.
Stay, lovely Laura! let us sit and play,
While Phoebus hurries on the sultry day,
Let us the whisp’ring pines' cool shade enjoy :
How soft they murmur as the zephyrs' sigh!
While the brook, bubbling to my pipe's soft charms,
Shall woo some gentle vision to thy arms.


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GLEE for Three Voices.

Send back my long-stray'd eyes to me,
Which, ob ! too long have dwelt on thee;
But if from you they've learn’d such ill,

To sweetly smile,

And then beguile,
Keep the deceivers, keep them still.

Send home my harmless heart again,
Which no unworthy thought could stain;
But if it has been taugḥt by thine,

To forfeit both

Its word and oath,
Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine,

Suckling.--Altered by Dr. Donne.

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