 | Poems, Fables, and Plays |  |
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.
205
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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