Abimelech an oratorio. As it is performed at the theatre-royal in Covent-Garden [by Christopher Smart]. The Music by Mr. Arnold |
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| I. |
AIR. |
 | II. |
| III. |
 | Abimelech |  |
AIR.
Ah, memory, my cruel foe,
How much you daily work for woe!
The past upon the present hour,
How I was miss'd, you bring to view,
And all my former scenes renew.
My ev'ning walks, my fav'rite bow'r;
How much you daily work for woe!
The past upon the present hour,
How I was miss'd, you bring to view,
And all my former scenes renew.
My ev'ning walks, my fav'rite bow'r;
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The friendships I was wont to share,
The flow'rs I nursed with so much care;
My garden, grotto, and my bees,
And, all these little griefs above,
My mother's and my sisters love,
And father's blessing on my knees.
The flow'rs I nursed with so much care;
My garden, grotto, and my bees,
And, all these little griefs above,
My mother's and my sisters love,
And father's blessing on my knees.
Yet, taunter of the past delight,
That urgest grief in such despight,
Some soothing pow'rs to thee belong;
Do not those soothing pow'rs refuse,
But, as the mother of the Muse,
Shape all my sorrows into song.
That urgest grief in such despight,
Some soothing pow'rs to thee belong;
Do not those soothing pow'rs refuse,
But, as the mother of the Muse,
Shape all my sorrows into song.
| Abimelech | |