Moonlight The Doge's daughter: Ariadne: Carmen Britannicum, or The song of Britain: Angelica, or The rape of Proteus: By Edward, Lord Thurlow |
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 | Moonlight |  |
144
SONGS.
AN ANGLER'S SONG.
Give me a cup of sparkling wine,
Madge, my pretty dear;
As pure, as are those looks of thine,
Those simple, harmless shepherd looks,
That would tempt fishes to our hooks,
Madge, my pretty dear.
Madge, my pretty dear;
As pure, as are those looks of thine,
Those simple, harmless shepherd looks,
That would tempt fishes to our hooks,
Madge, my pretty dear.
And in the cup put marigolds,
Madge, my pretty dear;
That to the sun her leaf unfolds,
Sweet flow'r, whose essence we will sup,
Then stir with rosemary the cup,
Madge, my pretty dear.
Madge, my pretty dear;
That to the sun her leaf unfolds,
Sweet flow'r, whose essence we will sup,
Then stir with rosemary the cup,
Madge, my pretty dear.
A king may drink a cup less pure,
Madge, my pretty dear;
Less bravely sweet than this, I'm sure,
And pledge a health less fair than thine,
Less steep'd in honour, less divine,
Madge, my pretty dear.
Madge, my pretty dear;
Less bravely sweet than this, I'm sure,
And pledge a health less fair than thine,
Less steep'd in honour, less divine,
Madge, my pretty dear.
145
The morning saw us at our sport,
Madge, my pretty dear;
For which we gladly leave the court,
And all it's oaths, and flattery,
To fish, to sing, to drink to thee,
Madge, my pretty dear.
Madge, my pretty dear;
For which we gladly leave the court,
And all it's oaths, and flattery,
To fish, to sing, to drink to thee,
Madge, my pretty dear.
146
A SECOND ANGLER'S SONG.
When the sun is shining low,
From our easy sport we go,
Our kettle full of fish:
And, having thought the golden day,
Through the meads we take our way,
In haste to dress our dish:
From our easy sport we go,
Our kettle full of fish:
And, having thought the golden day,
Through the meads we take our way,
In haste to dress our dish:
Whether it barbel be, or pike,
Or trout, or silver eel belike,
Or perch, or grayling free,
Or bream, or carp, or tench, or bleak,
Or gudgeons, we in shallows seek,
Or roach, or dace it be:
Or trout, or silver eel belike,
Or perch, or grayling free,
Or bream, or carp, or tench, or bleak,
Or gudgeons, we in shallows seek,
Or roach, or dace it be:
A cup, well stirr'd with rosemary,
A health, to Madge too pledged free,
A song of harmless love,
Sheets, neatly kept in lavender,
May each day of the calendar
These simple blessings prove.
A health, to Madge too pledged free,
A song of harmless love,
Sheets, neatly kept in lavender,
May each day of the calendar
These simple blessings prove.
147
Before the fire we sit, and sing,
Content and happy as a king,
When winds of autumn blow,
Employ'd upon our gentle themes;
'Till Spring unbind the frozen streams,
And then to fish we go:
Content and happy as a king,
When winds of autumn blow,
Employ'd upon our gentle themes;
'Till Spring unbind the frozen streams,
And then to fish we go:
With morn unto the dewy meads,
Where the herd contented feeds,
Tracing our steps again:
What fortune can be like to this?
Then let the wise partake our bliss,
The fools at court remain.
Where the herd contented feeds,
Tracing our steps again:
What fortune can be like to this?
Then let the wise partake our bliss,
The fools at court remain.
148
THE EPILOGUE.
Now thanks, O gentle Muse, I say,
Who gav'st me this Venetian lay,
And may the song be sweet and clear,
In noble Eldon's wisest ear:
With what, too, of diviner flame,
From the learn'd Anacreon came,
And lighter Flaccus, whose sharp string
Could please the world's discreetest king.
Who gav'st me this Venetian lay,
And may the song be sweet and clear,
In noble Eldon's wisest ear:
With what, too, of diviner flame,
From the learn'd Anacreon came,
And lighter Flaccus, whose sharp string
Could please the world's discreetest king.
And, ere yet the grasshopper
In the mead shall chirrup clear,
And bright willow-buds appear;
Ere the swallow dips it's wing,
On the surface of the spring;
Ere the forsaken Philomel
Her chant unto the forest tell;
Or the cuckoo strain her throat,
Which the married ear may note;
Long ere these sweet things shall be,
May this noble lord be free
From pain and infelicity:
That Equity may find its chair
Fill'd with prudence, and wise care;
That th' expecting Parliament
May have it's long-lov'd President;
That the weighty Council-board,
Which, O Muse, can ill afford,
Rich though it be, to lose this lord,
May joy in his pure golden light,
And be to our admiring sight
A perfect constellation bright:
In the mead shall chirrup clear,
And bright willow-buds appear;
Ere the swallow dips it's wing,
On the surface of the spring;
Ere the forsaken Philomel
Her chant unto the forest tell;
Or the cuckoo strain her throat,
Which the married ear may note;
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May this noble lord be free
From pain and infelicity:
That Equity may find its chair
Fill'd with prudence, and wise care;
That th' expecting Parliament
May have it's long-lov'd President;
That the weighty Council-board,
Which, O Muse, can ill afford,
Rich though it be, to lose this lord,
May joy in his pure golden light,
And be to our admiring sight
A perfect constellation bright:
These things shall make our Prince to smile,
And fill with joy the Silver Isle.
And fill with joy the Silver Isle.
| Moonlight | |