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CATCH for Three Voices,
S. Webbe.— Prize Cup. Dear father, the girl you design me in marriage, Is she pretty, complying, of elegant carriage ? You'd surely our family keep from a blot, She may be conceited, a jilt, or what not : de do Ah! now you delight me, describing the maid, And I hope she will verify all you have said.
GLEE for Three Voices.
S. WEBBE. Divine Cecelia! goddess, heav'nly maid ! Bless us, thy humble vot'ries, with thy aid ; That we, to nations yet unborn, may prove That music only is the food of love ; Then shall this day for ever sacred be, To thee, bright saint, to love and harmony.
Congreve. GLEE for Five Voices.
R. J. S. Stevens,
CHARMING to love is morning's hour,
CATCH for Three Voices.
HILTON. Come hither boy, if thou wilt learn to thrive, then come
away, And hearken to this lesson here to-day : Thou must often borrow, seldom lend, and never pay.
GLEE for Four Voices.
S. WEBBE, Jun. Come, and let us live, my dear! Let us love, and never fear What the sourest fathers say. Brighest Sol, that dies to-day, Lives again as blithe to-morrow : But if we, dark sons of sorrow, Set, o ! then how long a night Shuts the eyes of our short light! Then let amorous kisses dwell On our lips, begin and tell A thousand and a hundred score, A hundred and a thousand more; 'Till another thousand smother That, and that wipe off another. Thus, at last, when we have numbered, Many a thousand, many a hundred; We'll confound the reckoning quite, And lose ourselves in wild delight; While our joys so multiply, As shall mock the envious eye.
From the Latin of Catullus, by Crashaw.
BRAHAM. Deserted by the waning moon, When skies proclaim night's cheerless noon, On tower, fort, or tented ground, The sentry walks his lonely round: And should a footstep haply stray Where caution marks the guarded wayWho goes there ? Stranger, quickly tell ! A friend the word—ALL's well.
Or sailing on the midnight deep,
GLEE for Four Voices.
R. J. S. STEVENS. Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt thou the sun doth move,
MADRIGAL for Five Voices.
ORLANDO GIBBONS.-1612. Dainty, fine bird, thou art encaged there, Alas! how like thine and my fortunes are ; Both pris'ners be, and both singing, thus Strive to please her that imprison'd us : Only thus we differ, thou and I, Thou liv’st singing, but I sing and die.