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GLEE for Four Voices.

Sir G. T. SMART. Queen of the Skies! who silver’st wide

This dreary world, with glory's sea, Roll from thy orb the radiant tide,

And pour thy lucid stream on me.

Here, muffled dark in horrors dread,

I bow to sacred Love's command; While anguish clasps my aching head,

And terror chills with palsied hand.

O hear-O guide these 'wilder'd feet

To where my lov'd Hedallun stays ! Give me his long-lost form to meet

To light his eyes with fond amaze!

Give him-0 ere with life be part

Give him, to lull these wild alarms— Once more to soothe this dying heart

Once more to bless his Melna's arms !

The Maltese Mariners' Hymn,

For Thrce Voices.

G. M. SLATTER.

And for Five Voices.

Rr. Cooke. Queen of the seas! ordain'd to prove Our dear Redeemer's filial love, Bend from thy starry throne,

O beata Virgine !

Whene'er the beating tempest roars,
O give fresh vigour to our oars,
That we secure may reach our shores,

O beata Virgine !

Whene'er the rolling billows sleep,
And zephyrs fan the level deep,
Chant we, while all due measure keep,

O beata Virgine!

Ye white-cross-knights, the sacred train,
Look from your tow'rs that shade the main,
Repeat, repeat, repeat, the strain,
( beata Virgine !

Dr. Kett. GLEE for Four Voices.

J. S. Smith.-Prize, 1777. Return, blest days ! return, ye laughing hours !

Which led me up the roseate steep of youth ; Which strew'd my simple path with vernal flow'rs,

And bade me court chaste science and fair truth. Witness, ye winged daughters of the year,

If e'er a sigh, had learnt to heave my breast, If e'er my cheek was conscious of a tear,

Till Cynthia came, and robb’d my soul of rest. So soft, so delicate, so sweet she came,

Youth's damask glow just dawning on her cheek ; 1 gaz'd, I sigh’d, I caught the tender flame,

Felt the fond pang, and droop'd with passion weak.

Dr. Percy

GLEE for Four Voices.

S. WeBBE.—Prise, 1777. Rise, my joy! sweet mirth attend, I'm resoly'd to be thy friend ; Sneaking Phæbus hides his bead, He's with Thetis gone to bed : Tho' he will not on me shine, Still there's brightness in the wine; From Bacchus I'll such lustre borrow, My face shall be a sun to-morrow.

S. Webbe.

MADRIGAL for Four Voices.

HUTCHINSON. Return, return, my lovely maid,

For summer's pleasures pass away; The trees' green liv'ries 'gin to fade,

And Flora's treasures all decay. No more, at ev'n-tide, waileth sweet

Sad Philomel the woods among Nor lark the rising morn doth greet :

Return, my love, thou stay'st too long.

GLEE for Four Voices.

S. Paxton.-Prize, 1781. Round the hapless André's urn

Be the cyprus foliage spread; Fragrant spice profusely burn,

Honours grateful to the dead.

Let a soldier's manly form,

Guard the vase his ashes bears ; Truth, in living sorrow warm,

Pay a mourning nation's tears.

Fame, his praise upon thy wing,

Thro' the world dispersing tell, In the service of his king,

In his country's cause he fell.

Miss Seward.

GLEE for Five Voices.

J. DANBY.

Rosy finger'd goddess rise,
Fair Aurora, mount the skies;
Leave, O leave, your chrystal bed,
Deck'd with coral beauteous red;
From each bush the feather'd choir,
Warbling sweet, new joys inspire ;
Warbling sweet, each myrtle grove
Returns to meet the god of love :
Come then, shepherds, come away!
Come, ye damsels, fair and gay ;
Release your herds and snowy sheep,
That they the pearly dew may sip :
More grateful to the thirsty flocks
Than to Narciss' his golden locks.
Come, ere Soi's effervent beams
Parch the fields, or heat the streams;
Clad each in his best array,
We'll celebrate this holiday;
Dancing, music, cheerful song,
Shall the fleeting hours prolong.

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