MADRIGAL for Six Voices.

WHEN charming Chloe gently walks,
Or sweetly smiles, or gaily talks ;
No goddess can with her compare,
So sweet her looks, so soft her air.
In whom so many charms are placed,
Is with a mind so nobly graced,
With sparkling wit and solid sense,
And soft persuasive eloquence.
In framing her divinely fair,
Nature employ'd her utmost care,
That we in Chloe's form should find
A Venus, with Minerva's mind.

S. WEBBE.

GLEE for Five Voices.

Dr. CALLCOTT..

WHEN Daphne dy'd, the sylvans sighed sore,

And ev'ry Naïade on her oozie bed;
The fauns and fairies their light dance forbore,
Whilst Pan the flocks and fields forsaking fled.
Sad Venus wept, sad wept the graces all,
And Phoebus, with the muses, mourn'd her fall,
No voice was heard along the dreary plain,
None, but the sighing wind and weeping rain.

GLEE for Three Voices.

WHO like Bacchus can controul,

L. ATTERBURY.

Who restore the drooping soul?
When o'erwhelm'd with grief and care,
Bacchus lifts us from despair;

Why then droops my cheerful friend?

Drink, and let your sorrows end.

Dryden's Translation from Anacreon.

GLEE for Four Voices.

J. DANBY.—Prize, 1787.

WHEN beauty's soul, attracting charms,
Shall cease to kindle fond alarms ;
When at the festive board disguised,
Like prudence, cold reserve shall sit,
And caution's moral laws be prized,
Far above the realms of wit ;
When manners thus deprav'd we see,
Farewell! sweet harmony, to thee.

But while the swift electric flame
Of beauty, darts thro' all the frame;
While Britain's darling, Britain's pride,
Whose breast with ev'ry grace is stor'd;
Shall deign in courteous mood to guide,

The pleasures of our social board;
While thus we frolic, frank and free,
All hail! sweet harmony, to thee.

GLEE for Five Voices.

WITH the sun we rise at morn,
Haste the flocks into the mead,
By the fields of yellow corn,
There our gentle lambs we feed ;

Ever sportive, ever gay,

While the merry pipe we play.

Dr. STEVENSON:

GLEE for Four Voices.

W. SHIELD.

WHAT is love? a sad compound of simples most sweet,
Cull'd in life's spring by fancy, poor mortals to cheat;
A passion no eloquence yet could improve,
So a sigh best expresses the passion of love.

Sir H. Bate Dudley.

GLEE for Five Voices.

R. J. S. STEVENS.

WHAT a frail life? in fear and trembling past,

Form'd by a breath, to perish by a blast!
To this sad goal does ev'ry mortal run,
Dust, his beginning; and his end, a stone.
But yesterday the world in arms he led,
Now in an urn his mould'ring dust is laid.

From the Italian.

GLEE for Four Voices.
Harmonized by WM. KNYVETT.

Air by T. LINLEY.

WHEN 'tis night, and the mid-watch is come,

And chilling mists hang o'er the darken'd main;
Then sailors think of their far distant home,
And of those friends they ne'er may see again.
But when the fight's begun,

Each serving at his gun,

Shou'd any thought of them come o'er your mind:
Think only, should the day be won,

How 'twill cheer

Their hearts to hear,

That their old companion, he was one.

Or, my lad, if you a mistress kind,

Have left on shore, some pretty girl and true ;
Who many a night doth listen to the wind,
And sighs, to think how it may fare with you;
O! when the fights begun,

Your serving at your gun,

Should any thought of her come o'er your

Think only, should the day be won,

How 'twill cheer

Her heart to hear

That her own true sailor, he was one.

mind:

R. B. Sheridan, Esq.

GLEE for Three Voices.

Dr. CALLCOTT.

WHEN Time was entwining the garland of years,

Which to crown my beloved was giv'n,

Though some of the leaves might be sullied with tears;
Yet the flow'rs were all gather'd in heav'n.
And long may this garland be sweet to the eye,
May its verdure for ever be new,

Young Love shall enrich it with many a sigh,
And Pity shall nurse it with dew.

GLEE for Four Voices.

JOHN SALE.

WITH my jug of brown ale I defy ev'ry care,
I quaff, and I laugh, and I ever will sing ;
The strain of an Englishman free as the air,
Success to my country, and health to my king.

May Old England be happy, as happy can be,
May her tars and her soldiers be valiant and true;
To be loyal, my lads, is the way to be free,

A truth, father Time, has transmitted to you.

Here's a health to our monarch, and long may he reign,
The blessing of England, its glory and pride;
May his troops grace the land, and his fleets rule the

main,

And may Charlotte long sit on the throne by his side.

C c