Hannah An oratorio. Written by Mr. Smart. The Musick composed by Mr. Worgan. As Perform'd at the King's Theatre in the Haymart |
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 | Hannah |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Peninnah, and her Handmaid.
Recitative accompany'd.
Peninnah.
When
Abraham threw himself upon his Face
To worship God Almighty, in return
Came Blessing down for Blessing—On his Loins
It came, from whence a Matron of her House
Stands forth, Peninnah; whose unnumber'd Progeny
Are known to him which calculates the Stars,
And tells the Total of the golden Grain
That borders boundless Ocean—O for Musick,
And every Form of Joy to bless and praise.
To worship God Almighty, in return
Came Blessing down for Blessing—On his Loins
It came, from whence a Matron of her House
Stands forth, Peninnah; whose unnumber'd Progeny
Are known to him which calculates the Stars,
And tells the Total of the golden Grain
That borders boundless Ocean—O for Musick,
And every Form of Joy to bless and praise.
6
AIR.
Say, ye Turtles, as ye pair,Quicken'd by the vernal Air,
Is there any Bliss like yours?
Still returning Love for Love,
Dove proceeding still from Dove,
How your beauteous Race endures?
Handmaid.
Far other is the Lot of her, that shares
A nobler Portion of her Husband's Bounty,
The highly-favour'd Hannah; for her Honour
Is not hereafter in the sweet Idea
Of Self continued in a genuine Race.
A nobler Portion of her Husband's Bounty,
The highly-favour'd Hannah; for her Honour
Is not hereafter in the sweet Idea
Of Self continued in a genuine Race.
AIR.
How joyful the Triumph, how sweet the ContentO'er Rivals in Love to prevail,
When you fully revenge, what you greatly resent,
Till Pride her Preferment bewail;
When you bid her each Day and each Night to despair,
And urge that Reproach, which no Temper can bear.
SCENE II.
Elkanah, Hannah, Levite and Attendants.Hannah.
The Portion is too much thou hast assign'd me,
A thankful Heart I have and thankful Lips,
But—Oh Dishonour—I'm ungrateful still;
Wherefore there is a Burden in thy Blessing,
To her that costs such Care, and yields no Fruit.
7
AIR.
Since Grief her Misfortunes shou'd suit,And from all Enjoyment retire;
Adieu to the Timbrel and Lute,
Adieu to the Strains of the Lyre;
No Comfort Desertion shou'd know,
But seek to the Thorn for a Wreath,
And join the bleak Winds as they blow,
And howl o'er the desolate Heath.
Cease, cease lamenting, lest thou shou'd be found
To murmur against Providence and me—
Is not thy Husband with thee, more thy Glory,
And Pleasure than ten Sons—there is a Dow'ry
More blessed than the Gift of num'rous Seed,
And that thou hast from God's Munificence.
AIR.
Is not Genius heav'nly Fire,Thoughts so great and Words so free,
Heighten'd on the living Lyre
Giv'n from God and giv'n to Thee?
Are not these the way to Fame
Tow'ring from th'immortal Page,
Is not Hannah then a Name
Glorious to the latest Age?
Thy Goodness is excessive on my Side,
And Consolation dwells in soft Persuasives,
When thou art with me—but the cruel Taunts
And Triumphs of a Rival are too grievous
For thee to balance or for me to bear.
8
AIR.
All our Evils past and present,On whose Weight the Sage harangues,
Are supportable and pleasant
If compared with inward Pangs.
When the Soul's extreme Vexation
Rankles ever more and more,
And invet'rate Aggravation
Works upon the galling Sore.
The Remedy is not in Man or Musick
For Woes like thine, O Hannah—'tis my Province
To make thee sure of Comfort—pay thy Vows,
And trust in God's great Goodness shewn in Pow'r
To Sarah and Rebecca—and to Thee
As well as to thy Mothers, if thou pray'st.
AIR.
There is no Part of Heav'n so high,
But is accessible with ease,
If faithful Diligence apply
Upon her never-wearied Knees.
By Pray'r the Miracle is done,
By Pray'r th'eternal Prize is won.
But is accessible with ease,
If faithful Diligence apply
Upon her never-wearied Knees.
By Pray'r the Miracle is done,
By Pray'r th'eternal Prize is won.
But if with Lips and Heart in tune
The Lute's soft Symphonies unite,
Sweet Hymnist, thou must have thy Boon
Or Heav'n itself shall lose its Light.
By Pray'r the Miracle is done,
By Pray'r th'eternal Prize is won.
The Lute's soft Symphonies unite,
Sweet Hymnist, thou must have thy Boon
Or Heav'n itself shall lose its Light.
By Pray'r the Miracle is done,
By Pray'r th'eternal Prize is won.
9
Attend to that the Levite of the House
So just admonishes, I well approve
The Words that come from Piety like his
To sooth Distress like thine—but be th'Event
Or good, or unpropitious, Here am I
Thy Guard against Oppression, with the Voice
Of Invitation all thy Woes to lull
Upon the Pillow of connubial Love.
So just admonishes, I well approve
The Words that come from Piety like his
To sooth Distress like thine—but be th'Event
Or good, or unpropitious, Here am I
Thy Guard against Oppression, with the Voice
Of Invitation all thy Woes to lull
Upon the Pillow of connubial Love.
He.
DUETTO.
To thy Lover
Flee for Cover
By the Storms of Life opprest;
And disdaining
All complaining
Make thy Port and find thy Rest.
Flee for Cover
By the Storms of Life opprest;
And disdaining
All complaining
Make thy Port and find thy Rest.
She.
I am wholly
Weak and lowly
Far from Strength and far from Skill;
Love shall warm me,
And conform me,
To thy Word and to thy Will.
Weak and lowly
Far from Strength and far from Skill;
Love shall warm me,
And conform me,
To thy Word and to thy Will.
Both.
Heav'n protect us,
And direct us
To the Peace for which we sue;
Since Devotion
Claims Promotion,
When 'tis faithful just and true.
And direct us
To the Peace for which we sue;
Since Devotion
Claims Promotion,
When 'tis faithful just and true.
10
Thus our Forefather Jacob hush'd the Cries
Of loud-complaining Rachael, till at length
The Patriarch Joseph in his Father's likeness,
And Benjamin were born—The Lord of Nature
Withholds no Mercy from us, but to give it
In greater Comfort, Measure, and Duration.
Of loud-complaining Rachael, till at length
The Patriarch Joseph in his Father's likeness,
And Benjamin were born—The Lord of Nature
Withholds no Mercy from us, but to give it
In greater Comfort, Measure, and Duration.
AIR.
Glory, Glory is thy Due,
Lord of the selected Few,
Which thy Pleasure shall increase,
Till all Nations sue for Peace,
Till the World by Land and Sea
Shall return to Truth and Thee.
Lord of the selected Few,
Which thy Pleasure shall increase,
Till all Nations sue for Peace,
Till the World by Land and Sea
Shall return to Truth and Thee.
CHORUS.
Glory, Glory is thy Due,Lord of the selected Few, &c.
End of the First Act.
| Hannah | |