University of Virginia Library

3. PART THIRD.

Chorus of Rustics.
All gracious God! Oh! hear our Cry!
Hear and redress—we faint—we dye.
No Dew to cheer the parching Ground,
A sad, a dreary Waste around!
The Hind surveys her helpless Brood,
Surveys, and moans their Want of Food!
Each living Thing, in wild Despair,
With piercing Howlings rends the Air.
All gracious God! Oh! hear our Cry!
Hear and redress—we faint—we dye.

First Companion.
RECITATIVE.
1st Com.
A little longer yet, ye feeble Limbs,
Support my languid Frame! While any Share
Of Strength remains, I must not, cannot leave
This miserable Man. Oh! had he ta'en
My friendly Admonition!—What a Change!
Few Days are past, since I beheld him crown'd
With Stores for Length of Years—now, desolate,
In tatter'd Weeds, (to these inclement Skies
His Body half expos'd) for very Need,
He tends a Rustic's Swine, and yearns to feed
On Husks and Filth with his uncleanly Charge.
Lo! now he starts, all frantic with his Woes;
His haggard Eye-Balls, and up-staring Hair,
Speak his torn Mind—this Way, and that, he flies,
As tho' he shunn'd himself.

Prodigal
advances.
AIR.
RECIT. accompanied.

1st. Com.
AIR.

RECITATIVE.
Prod.

Solemn Chorus, by Invisible Spirits.
Fear not—fear not—waft thy Pray'r!
Waft thy Thoughts, thy Wishes there!
Damp not now this infant Flame!
God, and Mercy, are the same.

RECITATIVE.
Prod.
CHORUS repeated.

1st Com.
Oh! blessed Sight! those bended Knees! that Look,
Of meek, submissive, silent, Adoration,
Imploring Strength and Counsel from above!
Angels of Good, aid, and direct his Mind!

Prod.
I will arise, and go unto my Father,
And, stretch'd in Dust beneath his rev'rend Feet,
Thus will I say unto him:

“Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy Sight,
and am no more worthy to be called thy Son.”

RECITATIVE.
1st. Com.
Bless'd be our God! who hath inclin'd his Ear,
And turn'd this Sinner's Heart! let me but bear
This feeble Frame along, till I behold him
Clasp'd in a Father's Arms, and then—
Symphony of Aerial Music.
But hark!
What heav'nly Sounds! enkindling all my Soul
With Wonder and Delight!

Attend. Spirit.
Thou chosen Man!
Whose conscious Heart spontaneous cou'd resist
Th'intoxicating Draught of false Delight,
Warn thy lost Friend, mourn o'er his fall'n Estate,
And share his Troubles, to redeem his Soul,

AIR and Chorus of Attendant Spirits.
Spir.

Spir.

Father, Mother, Elder Brother, and Sister.
RECITATIVE.
Fath.
Nay, fear me not, my Consort; bounteous Heaven
Hath well repair'd my Strength; I can again
Join in the wholesome Labours of the Field.

Moth.
My Life, be cautious, nor, with hasty Zeal,
Risque the dear Blessing you so lately gain'd;
The Air, from recent copious Show'rs, is chill;
These new-recover'd Beams but faintly shine,
And the rich Drops yet glisten on the Grass.
Lo! here our duteous Boy! he will prevent
Thy too-advent'rous Care.

E. Bro.
With Pride, my Father—
My Life expos'd, to shield thy sacred Health,
Were Transport to my Soul.

Fath.
Go, my Support!
My Comfort, my Delight!

Sist.
O! had a Portion
Of that sweet Virtue, which inspires this Brother,
Glow'd in the other's Breast, my honour'd Sire
Had known no Sorrows, in his Eve of Life.

Fath.
Forbear, my Child, nor let the impious Breath
Of Murmur at our Lot pollute thy Lips;
Heav'n sees, and judges best. Recall to Mind
The comfortable Rule I gave thy Youth,
Should Pain or Disappointment vex thy Heart.
Follow us in.

Sist.
AIR.

Neighbour approaches.
RECITATIVE.
Neighb.
Hail, virtuous Fair! prepare thy Heart to taste
Of Pleasure mix'd with Pain. Thy wayward Brother
Is to these Plains return'd; but Oh! how chang'd!
A Beggar's abject Weeds begirt his Loins;
And in his Visage Shame, Remorse, and Anguish,
Have fix'd their Residence.

Sist.
May that Remorse
Plead for his Pardon in my Father's Breast!

Neighb.
Distant, and awe-struck, lo! he eyes the Roof,
Where once his dearest Comfort dwelt!—he eyes,
But fears to enter now.

Sist.
And see, my Father—
(Millions of Blessings warm his precious Heart!)
See how, thro' Haste, he totters down the Steps,
And teaches, Age to vie with agile Youth,
Eager to clasp, and take the Wand'rer in.
Lo! now the sacred, dear Embrace! Close-lock'd
To the full Bosom of my kneeling Brother,
(Whom from the Dust he piously hath rais'd)
Tears are their only Language: let us on
To share the Greetings—but with cautious Step,
Lest, by too hasty Zeal, we interrupt
These first strong Workings of the mighty Joy,
Which bears too heavy on that aged Breast.

Father, Mother, and Prodigal.
AIR.
Prod.
Against high Heav'n, and thee, my Sire,
Such great Offences have I done,
A Child's dear Claim I do not ask,
No more deserve the Name of Son;
Thy lowest Servant let me be,
That State alas! too good for me.

RECITATIVE.
Fath.
O! Welcome, welcome! Heav'n so deal with me,
As I receive my Boy!—Call, call my Friends!
My Neighbours! Servants!—Let them all attend,
And share the old Man's Rapture! Rich Attire,
And costly Jewels bring, to deck my Wand'rer;
Feasting and Music shall proclaim his Welcome,
And crown his penitential Heart with Joy!

TRIO.
Fath.
O! Repentance how precious!

Prod.
O! Pardon how dear!

Both.
These Joys are too mighty for Mortal to bear!

Moth.
Delighted on such do the Angels look down,
Then waft the glad Tidings to Mercy's bright Throne.

Fath.
O! Repentance, &c.

Prod.
O! Pardon, &c.

Eldest Son advances.
RECITATIVE.
E. Son.
For whom, my Father, these unusual Sounds,
And Preparations?

Fath.
O! my virtuous Son!
Thy once-dead Brother is alive again;
With pious Penitence, once more he seeks
A Parent's Roof, and Blessing.

E. Son.
Then this Prodigal,
Who hath consum'd thy Wealth in vicious Riot,
For very Need return'd, reaps a Reward
Unknown to blameless Duty. From my Youth,
When have I disobey'd thee? Yet for me
Ne'er was the Minstrel call'd, the Feast prepar'd.

Fath.
My steddy Boy; thou Treasure of my Age,
All, all I have, is thine. Not that thy Brother
Returns, thy Rival in a Father's Love;
But that a Sinner is reform'd, I joy.
For this I call the Guests, and raise the Song;
So Reason bids, and Heav'n itself approves.

E. Son.
'Tis true, my Father!—Thro' a fond Excess
Of Love, my Duty err'd—O! Pardon! Pardon!
Lo! he returns, cloath'd as befits thy Son;
Our Neighbours and Relations gather'd round,
With Looks of Transport hail his glad Return.
Let me support thy rev'rend Steps to meet them,
Embrace my Brother, and improve his Rapture!

Father, Mother, E. Son, Daughter, Prodigal, and Neighbours.
AIR.
Moth.
Friends, who oft partook my Care,
Now my rising Pleasure share!
Share, and aid this grateful Strain,
That tries to speak my Bliss in vain;
Behold, behold, my new-born Joy,
My late-restor'd, repentant Boy!

GRAND CHORUS.