SONG XII. (From Metastasio.*) BY MR. HOOLE. WHAT frenzy must his soul possess, For ev'n in life's serenest state, Shall Vice receive her secret sting; As Virtue, though depress'd by fate, Herself her own reward shall bring. SONG XIII. BY THE REV. THOMAS WARTON. To tinkling brooks, to twilight shades, On beauty next I wond'ring gaz'd, Too soon my supple heart was caught : An eye, a breast, a lip, a shape, Was all I talk'd of, all I thought. * In the opera of 'Hypsipile.' Next, by the smiling Muses led, Talk with old bards, and listening hear Then Harmony and Picture came, Twin-nymphs, my sense to entertain; At last, such various pleasures prov'd Yet parents of some painful wound. Humbly I ask'd great Wisdom's aid, COME, come, my good shepherds, our flocks we must shear; In your holiday suits, with your lasses appear : Sung by a shepherdess, at the sheep-shearing in Florizel and Perdita ;' a farce taken from Shakspeare's' Winter's Tale.' + So the best copies. It is usually sung guileless, even at Drurylane theatre. The alteration was probably made by the composer. We harbour no passions, by luxury taught, What we think in our hearts, you may read in our eyes; For knowing no falsehood, we need no disguise. By mode and caprice are the city-dames led, By her hand alone, we are painted and dress'd ; That giant Ambition we never can dread, Our roofs are too low for so lofty a head ; Content and sweet Cheerfulness open our door, They smile with the simple, and feed with the poor. When love has possess'd us, that love we reveal ; * SONG XV. A COUNTRY LIFE. BY MRS. KATHERINE PHILIPS. (The matchless Orinda.' *) How sacred and how innocent [This title preceded a posthumous edition of her poems.] This was the first and happiest life, 'Twas here the poets were inspir'd, The brave they here with honour fir'd, That golden age did entertain No passion but of love; The thoughts of ruling and of gain None then did envy neighbour's wealth, On roots, not beasts, they fed. They knew no law nor physic then, What blessings doth this world afford Her courtship is all fire and sword; Then welcome, dearest solitude, My great felicity; Though some are pleas'd to call thee rude, Thou art not so, but we. Them that do covet only rest, A cottage will suffice : Opinion is the rate of things, When all the stormy world doth roar, I cannot fear to tumble lower, Secure in these unenvied walls, Silence and innocence are safe; While others revel it in state, Let some in courtship take delight, VOL. II; |