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GLEE for Three Voices.

As o'er the varied meads I stray,

S. WEBBE.

Or trace through winding woods my way;
While op'ning flow'rs their sweets exhale,
And odours breathe in every gale;
Where sage Contentment builds her seat,
And Peace attends the calm retreat;
My soul responsive hails the scene,
Attun'd to joy and peace within.
But, musing on the lib'ral hand
That scatters blessings o'er the land ;
That gives for man with pow'r divine,
The earth to teem, the sun to shine ;
My grateful heart with rapture burns,
And pleasure to devotion turns.

Anacreon on the Spring.

GLEE for Four Voices.

DANBY.-Medal, 1783.

AWAKE, Æolian lyre, awake!

And give to rapture all thy trembling strings ;
From Helicon's harmonious springs,

A thousand rills their mazy progress take.
The laughing flow'rs that round them blow,
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich stream of music winds along,
Deep, majestic, smooth and strong,

Through verdant vales and Cere's golden reign:
Now rolling down the steep amain,

Headlong, impetuous, see it pour ;

The rocks and nodding groves re-bellow to the roar.

Gray.

GLEE for Four Voices.

Dr. COOKE.-Prize Glee, 1782.

As now the shades of eve embrown
The scenes, where pensive poets rove ;
From care remote, from envy's frown;
The joys of inward calm I prove.
What holy strains, around me swell!
No wildly rude tumultuous sound :
They fix the soul in magic spell;

Soft let me tread this favour'd ground.
Sweet is the gale that breathes the spring,
Sweet, thro' the vale, yon winding stream;
Sweet are the notes love's warblers sing,
But sweeter friendship's solemn theme.

GLEE for Four Voices.

Dr. CALLCOTT.

ARE the white hours for ever fled,
That us'd to make the cheerful day?
And ev'ry blooming pleasure dead,

That led th' enraptur'd soul astray?

Too fast the rosy-footed train,

The blest delicious moments past;
Pleasure must now give way to pain,
And grief succeed to joy at last.
O! daughters of eternal Jove!

Return with the returning year;

Bring pleasure back, and smiles, and love,

Let blooming love again appear.

Annual Register.

GLEE for Three Voices.

As I was going to Derby,

"Twas on a market-day,

I met the finest ram, Sir,

That ever was fed upon hay: This ram was fat behind, Sir,

This ram was fat before;

This ram was ten yards high, Sir,
Indeed, he was no more!

The butcher that kill'd this ram, Sir,
Was up to his knees in blood!
The boy that held the pail, Sir,

Was carried away by the flood!
The tail that grew upon his rump

Was ten yards and an ell! And that was sent to Derby,

To toll the market bell!

Dr. CALLCOTT.

Old Ballad.

GLEE for Four Voices.

ABELARD.

Dr. CALLCOTT,

AH! why this boding start, this sudden pain,

That wings my pulse, and shoots from vein to vein!
What mean regardless of yon midnight bell,
These earth-born visions, saddening o'er my cell!
What strange disorder prompts these thoughts to glow,
These sighs to murmur, and these tears to flow!
Sleep, conscience, sleep! each awful thought be drown'd,
And seven-fold darkness veil the scene around.
What means this pause, this agonizing start,
This glimpse of heav'n, just rushing through my heart
Methinks I see a radiant cross displayed,

A wounded Saviour bleeds along the shade!
Around th' expiring God, bright angels fly,
Swell the loud hymn, and open all the sky.
O save me! save me! ere the thunder roll,
And endless terrors swallow up my soul.
Fly! for justice bares the arm of God,
And the grasp'd vengeance only waits his nod!

Cawthorne,

CATCH for Three Voices.

AH! how, Sophia, can you leave
Your lover, and of hope bereave!
Go fetch the Indian's borrow'd plume,
Yet richer far than that you bloom;
I'm but a lodger in your heart,
And more than me, I fear, have part.

Dr. CALLCOTT.

GLEE for Four Voices.

ARISE, ye winds! from your deep caves,
And rouse, oh! rouse the swelling waves;
Oh! drive my love again to shore,
That I may see his face, once more!
Who flies from me on the broad back
Of the salt ocean, thro' the track
Of yielding floods: while left alone
I sigh, and tell deaf rocks my moan.
Cruel, ah! how he swore,

For ever, he would me adore,

Next to the powers divine.

S. WEBBE.

But see, O God of Love! men's treachery :

Too easy my belief's betray'd,

And all my hopes, just blooming, fade.

Grief, come on, to thee I'll wed,

And on the sea-bank make my bed.

Come, sea nymphs, from your coral caves,

Arise, ye tritons, from your waves
Revenge my death; oh! close my eyes!
For wrong'd in love a virgin dies.
"Witness the sun that shines so bright,
Witness the tapers of the night,

Witness the spring and groves," she cried ;

And then she laid her down, and died.

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