ON A LADY'S WRITING HER NAME IN THE SNOW.

GLEE for Three Voices.

CHARMING maid!

Why, Nancy, to the faithless snow,
Intrust a name so dear as thine;
Soon on it shall the rude blast blow,
And level all the radiant line.

But, tho' defac'd by wind and sleet,
This record on the snow we find ;
Know, charming maid, a warmer seat
To thy fond name has love assign'd.

For in deep characters imprest,

Untouch'd by winter's hostile power; On the soft tablet of my breast,

Thy name, fair Nancy, lives secure.

Still there the imag'd worth shall break,
In living glow, on fancy's eye;
And there thy beauteous form shall take
Such colours as shall never die.

J. B. SALE.

GLEE for Three Voices.

COME, rosy health, celestial maid!
On zephyr's silken wings convey'd ;
In smiles thy heav'nly features drest,
Descend thou sweet enchanting guest.
Ever cheerful, ever gay,

Hither come, and chase away
Disease, with sickly yellow spread,
And pain, that holds the hanging head.
And in their stead, conduct along
Fantastic dance, and airy song;
Wit with taste, correct and fine,
Frolic mirth, that waits on wine.
Hope, that fans the lover's fires,
Pleasing follies, gay desires;
For these are thine, a sprightly train,
Without thee, lifeless, joyless, vain.

S. WEBBE.

MADRIGAL for Six Voices.

J. WARD.-1608.

DIE not, fond man, before thy day,
Love's cold December will surrender

To succeeding jocund May;
And then, O then! sorrow shall cease,
Comforts abounding, cares confounding,
Shall conclude a happy peace.

GLEE for Four Voices.

S. WEBBE.-Prize, 1772.

DISCORD, dire sister of the slaught'ring pow'r,

Small at her birth, but rising ev'ry hour ;

While scarce the skies her horrid head can bound, She stalks on earth, and shakes the world around.

But lovely peace, in angel's form,
Descending, quells the rising storm;
Soft ease and sweet content shall reign,
And discord never rise again.

Pope.

GLEE for Three Voices.

S. Webbe.

Dr. CALLCOTT.

DESOLATE is the dwelling of Mona,
Silence is in the house of her fathers;

Raise the song of mourning, O bards,

Over the land of strangers,—

They have but fallen before us,

For one day we must fall.

Yet a few years, and the blast of the desert comes,

And whistles round the half-worn shield.

Let the blast of the desert come,

We shall be renowned in our day.

The mark of my arm shall be in battle,
My name in the song of bards.

Ossian.

GLEE for Five Voices.

Down in a valley as Alexis trips,

He saw young Daphne sleeping;

WILBYE.-1609.

Soon did the wanton touch her ruby lips,

She blush'd and fell a weeping.

The youth then gently greets her,

But all in vain entreats her:

Since neither sighs nor tears cou'd move her pity,
With plaint he warbled forth his mournful ditty.

GLEE for Five Voices.

DAUGHTER, Sweet, of voice and air,

Gentle echo, haste thee here;
From the vale, where all around,
Rocks to rocks return the sound:
From the swelling surge that roars
'Gainst the tempest-beaten shores;
From the silent moss-grown cell,
Haunt of warb'ling Philomel :
Where unseen of man you lie,
Queen of woodland harmony.
Daughter, sweet, of voice and air,
Gentle echo, haste thee here;
If thou would'st Narcissus move,
To requite thy tender love;
From Delia thou may'st learn the art,
She captivates the hardest heart.

S. WEBBE.

GLEE for Three Voices.

DRINK to me only with thine eyes,

And I will pledge with mine: Or leave a kiss within the cup,

And I'll not look for wine:

The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine

But might I of Jove's nectar sip,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee,
At giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be:

But thou, thereon, didst only breathe,

And sent'st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,

Not of itself, but thee!

T. LINLEY.

Ben Jonson.