 | Poems, Fables, and Plays |  |
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THE NUN:
A CANTATA.
RECITATIVE.
Of Constance holy legends tell,The softest sister of the cell;
None sent to heav'n so sweet a cry,
Or roll'd at mass so bright an eye.
No wanton taint her bosom knew,
Her hours in heav'nly vision flew,
Her knees were worn with midnight pray'rs,
And thus she breath'd divinest airs.
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AIR.
In hallow'd walks, and awful cells,
Secluded from the light and vain,
The chaste-ey'd maid with virtue dwells,
And solitude, and silence reign.
Secluded from the light and vain,
The chaste-ey'd maid with virtue dwells,
And solitude, and silence reign.
The wanton's voice is heard not here,
To heav'n the sacred pile belongs;
Each wall returns the whisper'd pray'r,
And echoes but to holy songs.
To heav'n the sacred pile belongs;
Each wall returns the whisper'd pray'r,
And echoes but to holy songs.
RECITATIVE.
Alas, that pamper'd monks should dareIntrude where sainted vestals are!
Ah, Francis! Francis! well I weet
Those holy looks are all deceit.
With shame the muse prolongs her tale,
The Priest was young, the Nun was frail,
Devotion faulter'd on her tongue,
Love tun'd her voice, and thus she sung.
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AIR.
Alas, how deluded was I,
To fancy delights as I did!
With maidens at midnight to sigh,
And love, the sweet passion, forbid!
O, father! my follies forgive,
And still to absolve me be nigh;
Your lessons have taught me to live,
Come teach me, O! teach me to die!
To fancy delights as I did!
With maidens at midnight to sigh,
And love, the sweet passion, forbid!
O, father! my follies forgive,
And still to absolve me be nigh;
Your lessons have taught me to live,
Come teach me, O! teach me to die!
To her arms in a rapture he sprung,
Her bosom, half-naked, met his;
Transported in silence she hung,
And melted away at each kiss.
Ah, father! expiring she cry'd,
With rapture I yield up my breath!
Ah, daughter! he fondly reply'd,
The righteous find comfort in death.
Her bosom, half-naked, met his;
Transported in silence she hung,
And melted away at each kiss.
Ah, father! expiring she cry'd,
With rapture I yield up my breath!
Ah, daughter! he fondly reply'd,
The righteous find comfort in death.
SOLOMON,
A SERENATA:
I. PART I.
CHORUS.Behold , Jerusalem, thy king,
Whose praises all the nations sing!
To Solomon the Lord has giv'n
All arts and wisdom under heav'n:
For him the tuneful virgin throng
Of Zion's daughters, swell the song:
While young and old their voices raise,
And wake the echoes with his praise.
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RECITATIVE.
She.
From the mountains, lo! he comes,
Breathing from his lips perfumes;
While zephyrs on his garments play,
And sweets through all the air convey.
AIR.
Tell me, lovely shepherd, whereThou feed'st at noon thy fleecy care?
Direct me to the sweet retreat,
That guards thee from the mid-day heat:
Lest by the flocks I lonely stray,
Without a guide, and lose my way:
Where rest at noon, thy bleating care,
Gentle shepherd, tell me where?
AIR.
He.
Fairest of the virgin throng,
Dost thou seek thy swain's abode?
See yon fertile vale along
The new-worn path the flocks have trod:
Pursue the prints their feet have made,
And they shall guide thee to the shade.
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RECITATIVE.
She.
As the rich apple, on whose boughs
Ripe fruit with streaky beauty glows,
Excels the trees that shade the grove,
So shines, among his sex, my love.
AIR.
Beneath his ample shade I lay,Defended from the sultry day;
His cooling fruit my thirst assuag'd,
And quench'd the fires that in me rag'd;
'Till sated with the luscious taste,
I rose and blest the sweet repast.
RECITATIVE.
He.
Who quits the lily's fleecy white,
To fix on meaner flow'rs the sight?
Or leaves the rose's stem untorn,
To crop the blossom from the thorn?
Unrival'd thus thy beauties are;
So shines my love among the fair.
AIR.
Balmy sweetness, ever flowing,From her dropping lips distils;
Flowers on her cheeks are blowing,
And her voice with music thrills.
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Wasting sweets from every tree,
Sick'ning sense with odours cloying,
Breathe not half so sweet as she.
RECITATIVE.
She.
Let not my prince his slave despise,
Or pass me with unheeding eyes,
Because the sun's discolouring rays
Have chac'd the lily from my face.
My envious sisters saw my bloom,
And drove me from my mother's home;
Unshelter'd all the scorching day
They made me in their vineyard stay.
AIR.
Ah simple me! my own, more dear,My own, alas! was not my care:
Invading love the fences broke,
And tore the clusters from the stock,
With eager grasp the fruit destroy'd,
Nor rested, till the ravage cloy'd.
AIR.
He.
Fair and comely is my love,
And softer than the blue-ey'd dove;
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Bound like the kids on Gilead's rocks;
Her teeth like flocks in beauty seem,
New shorn, and dropping from the stream;
Her glowing lips by far out-vie
The plaited threads of scarlet dye;
Whene'er she speaks the accents wound,
And music floats upon the sound.
RECITATIVE.
She.
Forbear, O charming swain, forbear!
Thy voice enchants my list'ning ear;
And while I gaze, my bosom glows,
My flutt'ring heart with love o'erflows,
The shades of night hang o'er my eyes,
And every sense within me dies.
AIR.
O fill with cooling juice the bowl!Assuage the fever in my soul!
With copious draughts my thirst remove,
And sooth the heart that's sick of love.
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II. PART II.
RECITATIVE.
He.
The chearful spring begins to-day;
Arise, my fair one, come away!
RECITATIVE.
She.
Sweet music steals along the air—
Hark!—my beloved's voice I hear!
AIR.
He.
Arise, my fair, and come away,
The chearful spring begins to-day:
Bleak winter's gone with all his train
Of chilling frosts, and dropping rain.
Amidst the verdure of the mead
The primrose lifts her velvet head:
The warbling birds, the woods among,
Salute the season with a song:
The cooing turtle in the grove
Renews his tender tale of love:
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The fig-tree bends with early fruit:
All welcome in the genial ray:
Arise, my fair, and come away!
CHORUS.
All welcome in the genial ray,
Arise, O fair one! come away!
DUET.
Together let us range the fields,Impearled with the morning dew;
Or view the fruits the vineyard yields,
Or the apple's clust'ring bough:
There in close-embower'd shades,
Impervious to the noon-tide ray,
By tinkling rills, on rosy beds,
We'll love the sultry hours away.
RECITATIVE.
He.
How lovely art thou to the sight,
For pleasure form'd, and sweet delight!
Tall as the palm-tree is thy shape,
Thy breasts are like the clust'ring grape.
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AIR.
Let me, love, thy bole ascending,On the swelling clusters feed:
With my grasp the vine-tree bending,
In my close embrace shall bleed.
Stay me with delicious kisses,
From thy honey-dropping mouth;
Sweeter than the summer breezes,
Blowing from the genial south.
RECITATIVE.
She.
O that a sister's specious name
Conceal'd from prying eyes my flame!
Uncensur'd then I'd own my love,
And chastest virgins should approve:
Then fearless to my mother's bed
My seeming brother would I lead:
Soft transports should the hours employ,
And the deceit should crown the joy.
AIR.
Soft! I adjure you, by the fawns,That bound across the flow'ry lawns,
Ye virgins, that ye lightly move,
Nor with your whispers wake my love!
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RECITATIVE.
He.
My fair's a garden of delight,
Enclos'd, and hid from vulgar sight;
Where streams from bubbling fountains stray,
And roses deck the verdant way.
AIR.
Softly arise, O southern breeze!And kindly fan the blooming trees;
Upon my spicy garden blow,
That sweets from every part may flow.
Ye southern breezes gently blow,
That sweets from every part may flow.
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III. PART III.
AIR.
He.
Arise, my fair, the doors unfold,
Receive me, shivering with the cold.
RECITATIVE.
She.
My heart amidst my slumbers wakes,
And tells me my beloved speaks.
AIR.
He.
Arise, my fair, the doors unfold,
Receive me, shivering with the cold:
The chill-drops hang upon my head,
And night's cold dews my cheeks o'erspread:
Receive me, dropping, to thy breast,
And lull me in thy arms to rest.
RECITATIVE.
She.
Obedient to thy voice I hie;
The willing doors wide open fly.
AIR.
Ah! whither, whither art thou gone?Where is my lovely wand'rer flown?
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If chance you meet my straying love,
I charge you tell him how I mourn,
And pant, and die for his return.
Who is thy love, O charming maid!
That from thy arms so late has stray'd?
Say what distinguish'd charms adorn,
And finish out his radiant form?
AIR.
She.
On his face the vernal rose,
Blended with the lily glows;
His locks are as the raven black,
In ringlets waving down his back;
His eyes with milder beauties beam,
Than billing doves beside the stream;
His youthful cheeks are beds of flow'rs,
Enripen'd by refreshing show'rs;
His lips are of the rose's hue,
Dropping with a fragrant dew;
Tall as the cedar he appears,
And as erect his form he bears.
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Whose absence causes all my pain.
RECITATIVE.
He.
Sweet nymph, whom ruddier charms adorn,
Than open with the rosy morn;
Fair as the moon's unclouded light,
And as the sun in splendor bright;
Thy beauties dazzle from a-far,
Like glitt'ring arms that gild the war.
RECITATIVE.
Speaker.
O take me! stamp me on thy breast!
Deep let the image be imprest!
For love, like armed death, is strong,
Rudely he drags his slaves along:
If once to jealousy he turns,
With never-dying rage he burns.
DUET.
Thou soft invader of the soul!O love, who shall thy pow'r controul!
To quench thy fires whole rivers drain,
Thy burning heat shall still remain.
In vain we trace the globe to try,
If pow'rful gold thy joys can buy:
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Too poor a bribe to purchase love.
The vain we trace the globe to try,
If pow'rful gold thy joys can buy:
The treasures of the world will prove
Too poor a bribe to purchase love.
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