 | The Prodigal Son |  |
1
1. PART FIRST.
Father, Mother, E. Son, Daughter, and Chorus of Neighbours.
CHORUS.
What dear Delights the Duties bring,
Wherein thus daily we engage!
From filial Love what Comforts spring,
To warm the Hearts of shiv'ring Age!
AIR.
E. Bro.
Great God, while suppliant thus we bend,
Thy kind, thy gracious Hearing lend
To this our fervent Pray'r!
O! may our Sire's remaining Day
Enjoy a Calm, a soft Decay,
His Eve serenely fair!
Daug.
But if Disease, with venom'd Dart,
Or Sorrow, wound the rev'rend Heart
Of those who gave us Breath;
Let us, their destin'd Anguish share,
Prevent or dry each painful Tear,
And smooth the Bed of Death.
CHORUS
repeated.
What dear Delights the Duties bring,
Wherein thus daily we engage!
From filial Love what Comforts spring,
To warm the Hearts of shiv'ring Age!
RECITATIVE.What dear Delights the Duties bring,
Wherein thus daily we engage!
From filial Love what Comforts spring,
To warm the Hearts of shiv'ring Age!
AIR.
E. Bro.
Great God, while suppliant thus we bend,
Thy kind, thy gracious Hearing lend
To this our fervent Pray'r!
O! may our Sire's remaining Day
Enjoy a Calm, a soft Decay,
His Eve serenely fair!
2
But if Disease, with venom'd Dart,
Or Sorrow, wound the rev'rend Heart
Of those who gave us Breath;
Let us, their destin'd Anguish share,
Prevent or dry each painful Tear,
And smooth the Bed of Death.
CHORUS
repeated.
What dear Delights the Duties bring,
Wherein thus daily we engage!
From filial Love what Comforts spring,
To warm the Hearts of shiv'ring Age!
Fath.
Tis true, my pious Children; in my Breast
I fell the kindly Glow. If Love like yours
Could furnish ev'ry Joy that Life requir'd,
I should be amply blest. Beloved Consort!
Improver dear of ev'ry Happiness,
And Light'ner of each Care, begin the Song:
Requite we, far as feeble Age permits,
Their grateful Strain, which each revolving Day,
Due as it smiles, attests. Begin, my Comfort.
AIR and DUETT.
Moth.
Fath.
RECITATIVE.Moth.
New Blessings, new Life ye impart,
So oft as this Tribute is giv'n;
The Pray'r of the dutiful Heart,
Like Incense, arises to Heav'n.
So oft as this Tribute is giv'n;
The Pray'r of the dutiful Heart,
Like Incense, arises to Heav'n.
3
For this thro' your mortal Estate
In Peace shall ye walk, Hand in Hand;
And your Joys shall be many and great,
And your Days shall be long in the Land.
In Peace shall ye walk, Hand in Hand;
And your Joys shall be many and great,
And your Days shall be long in the Land.
Fath.
But say, my Children, where's the second Prop
Of my declining Age? Why joins not he
Your Orisons, and claims his wonted Blessing?
Moth.
Why joins he not indeed?
E. Son.
My honour'd Father,
High on the Mountain's Summit, that o'er-hangs
The swelling Flood, and of the distant Plains
(Teeming with Wealth) commands an ample View,
I left him gazing on the wide Expanse,
And Joy enlarg'd his Eye.
Moth.
Ah! seest thou not,
Lord of my Life and Love, e'er since thy Hand,
(Profusely kind!) on his ill-judg'd Request,
Allotted him a Portion of thy Wealth,
Averse to these our Duties and Delights,
Our wonted social Converse, wide he strays,
Shunning thine Eye, thy Counsel—much I fear him.
Fath.
Vex not thy tranquil Mind with fancy'd Terrors.
By young Ambition led, and warm Desires,
Error awhile may warp his ductile Heart;
But stubborn Vice, or black Ingratitude—
My Son, sure, knows them not
By young Ambition led, and warm Desires,
Error awhile may warp his ductile Heart;
But stubborn Vice, or black Ingratitude—
My Son, sure, knows them not
4
To yonder Summit stretch thine Eye,
That young, aspiring Elm espy,
The Victim of each angry Sky,
To ev'ry Blast a Prey!
As weak, defenceless, and oppress'd,
By stormy Passions sore distress'd,
My pliant Boy may sink depress'd
In Life's uncertain Day.
That young, aspiring Elm espy,
The Victim of each angry Sky,
To ev'ry Blast a Prey!
As weak, defenceless, and oppress'd,
By stormy Passions sore distress'd,
My pliant Boy may sink depress'd
In Life's uncertain Day.
Like that too easily inclin'd
To change with ev'ry shifting Wind,
Till rooting Time mature his Mind,
And Reason's Shoots appear;
Then all the Virtues bloom apace,
Then, comely in his ripen'd Grace,
He stands, the Glory of the Chace,
Majestically fair!
To change with ev'ry shifting Wind,
Till rooting Time mature his Mind,
And Reason's Shoots appear;
Then all the Virtues bloom apace,
Then, comely in his ripen'd Grace,
He stands, the Glory of the Chace,
Majestically fair!
RECITATIVE.
Moth.
Oh! may it so betide!—behold, he seeks thee—
Not such, I ween, the Countenance he wore,
Ere dowried with thy Bounty.
The Prodigal approaches, with Companions.
Prod.
Father, hail!—
Thy Hand hath giv'n me Wealth, I thank thee for it;
But more remains to grant—thy free Consent
To taste the Pleasures, distant Climes afford:
This unbestow'd, the first is valueless,
And thou may'st take it back.
5
Too true my Fears!
Base and ungrateful, is it not enough
Thou hast withdrawn from his indulgent Love,
With jealous Hand, thy Share of worldly Wealth?
Must thou invade the Quiet of his Mind,
That dearest Treasure of his Age? Alas!
Yon spacious Robe, behold, how slight a Covering
For th'Hugeness of his Grief!
AIR.
Base and ungrateful, is it not enough
Thou hast withdrawn from his indulgent Love,
With jealous Hand, thy Share of worldly Wealth?
Must thou invade the Quiet of his Mind,
That dearest Treasure of his Age? Alas!
Yon spacious Robe, behold, how slight a Covering
For th'Hugeness of his Grief!
With deep Indents his rev'rend Face
Time's Hand hath furrow'd o'er—
Canst thou, perverse, and void of Grace,
Endure to wound him more?
His Sorrows, see! too big to speak,
Swell the pent Heart, and bid it break.
CHORUS.
His Sorrows, see! &c.
Time's Hand hath furrow'd o'er—
Canst thou, perverse, and void of Grace,
Endure to wound him more?
His Sorrows, see! too big to speak,
Swell the pent Heart, and bid it break.
CHORUS.
His Sorrows, see! &c.
RECITATIVE.
Moth.
Why alters not thine Eye? Shame, Shame beset thee,
Thou Stranger-Lad!
Fath.
Fond Advocate, forbear!—
I am myself again—My Son, behold me!
I have not long to live—and canst thou leave me?
Plead not these falling Tears? for thee, my Child,
More than myself, such Sorrows flow.
6
Why seeks
My Father to retard my rising Hopes?
Can I, by staying here, recall thy Youth,
Or add a Moment more when Fate demands thee?
For Duty's Cares, and Watchings, thou hast here
More Children, whom domestic Life allures,
And cool Desires engage: Me ardent Passions
And wild Extravagance of Soul enflame.
AIR.
My Father to retard my rising Hopes?
Can I, by staying here, recall thy Youth,
Or add a Moment more when Fate demands thee?
For Duty's Cares, and Watchings, thou hast here
More Children, whom domestic Life allures,
And cool Desires engage: Me ardent Passions
And wild Extravagance of Soul enflame.
Within one narrow Bound confin'd,
In one poor Path to move,
Is Torture to the spacious Mind,
That thro' a World would rove;
Rapid as Air, my active Soul,
Would dart, impatient of Controul,
From Clime to Clime, from Pole to Pole;
Each Sweet would taste, each Joy attain,
Thro' all Creation's wide Domain.
In one poor Path to move,
Is Torture to the spacious Mind,
That thro' a World would rove;
Rapid as Air, my active Soul,
Would dart, impatient of Controul,
From Clime to Clime, from Pole to Pole;
Each Sweet would taste, each Joy attain,
Thro' all Creation's wide Domain.
RECITATIVE.
Fath.
I grieve, my Son, to say, thy youthful Fancy
Leads thee far wide from Happiness; from Joys,
That Reason would inspire and give—yet go—
And may thy Hopes be gratified! tho' much
I fear thy Disappointment.
Sist.
Oh, my Brother,
With inattentive Ear, and rocky Heart,
Mock not this kind Advice;
With inattentive Ear, and rocky Heart,
Mock not this kind Advice;
7
In vain alas! from Shore to Shore
In search of Bliss we roam,
And strange Delights abroad explore,
Our best reside at home;
Within the just and pious Heart
Our truest Joys we find,
Which calm and sweet Repose impart,
And leave no Sting behind.
In search of Bliss we roam,
And strange Delights abroad explore,
Our best reside at home;
Within the just and pious Heart
Our truest Joys we find,
Which calm and sweet Repose impart,
And leave no Sting behind.
Moth.
The poison'd Cup
Of Riot and Excess, Youth's surest Bane,
Too early hath he tasted.—Hence! begone,
Thou, and thy loose Companions! vex no more
The decent Quiet of our sober Roof,
Or thy fond Father's Heart.
Prod.
I wanted not
This Taunt to urge me; when I next behold
My Mother's Face, perchance with less Displeasure
She may receive me.
E. Son.
Stay return, my Brother!
Behold our failing Sire, who long hath flourish'd,
Like the tall Cedar on aspiring Lebanon,
With all his growing Saplings branching round!
Oh! view him now!—by Time and Grief impair'd,
'Reft of his Strength, he bends with every Breeze.
Moth.
No longer waste your unavailing Suit
On that obdurate Wretch, who scouls Contempt
On these your kind Persuasions. To yon Sage
8
His swimming Eyes! Ah, catch him, e're he fall,
Ye, pious Pair, and to the Couch convey
Your rev'rend Charge. Tis well-Hear me, thou, senseless
Of ev'ry Good, thy God hath show'rd upon thee,
Hear me this once, and tremble!—
Think, not to bear away thy Crimes unpunish'd—
Oh! no—peculiar Plagues are kept in Store
For disobedient Children.
Prod.
to 1st. Com.
Why is thine Eye thus fix'd? Can the weak Breath
Of an incensed Woman thus transform thee
A Monument of Wonder? Rouze! awake!
And join our wonted Gladness—let the Voice
Of Music start him from this gloomy Dream,
Then lead him forth to Realms of varied Bliss,
And, as we pass, let ev'ry Hill and Dale
Repeat the jocund Notes.
SONG and CHORUS.
Wake to Musick, Mirth, and Love!
Let us all the Transports prove,
Wine and Beauty can inspire;
Wine exalts our am'rous Fire.
Let us all the Transports prove,
Wine and Beauty can inspire;
Wine exalts our am'rous Fire.
CHORUS.
Wake to Music &c.
Prod.
Welcome the capacious Bowl,
Welcome to my thirsty Sowl!
Speed the copious Draught around,
Care and Thought alike be drown'd!
Welcome to my thirsty Sowl!
Speed the copious Draught around,
Care and Thought alike be drown'd!
9
Welcome the capacious, &c.
Prod.
Welcome, welcome Woman's Charms,
Welcome to my ardent Arms,
Welcome Charms that raise Desire,
Welcome Wine that feeds the Fire!
Welcome to my ardent Arms,
Welcome Charms that raise Desire,
Welcome Wine that feeds the Fire!
CHORUS.
Welcome, Welcome, &c.
Endof the First Part.
| The Prodigal Son | |