FROST SCENE in King Arthur.

CUPID.

H. PURCEL.

WHAT, ho! thou Genius of this isle! what, ho! Ly'st thou asleep beneath those hills of snow? What, ho! stretch out thy lazy limbs; awake; And winter from thy furry mantle shake.

COLD GENIUS,

What power art thou, who from below
Hast made me rise, unwillingly and slow,
From beds of everlasting snow?

See'st thou not how stiff, and wond'rous old,
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold?

I can scarcely move, or draw my breath;
Let me, let me freeze again to death.

CUPID.

Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear,

What! dost thou dream of freezing here?

At Love's appearing,

All the sky clearing,

The stormy winds their fury spare.

Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear,

What! dost thou dream of freezing here?
Winter subduing,

And spring renewing,

My beams create a more glorious spring,
Thou doating fool, forbear, forbear,
What! dost thou dream of freezing here?

COLD GENIUS.

Great Love! I know thee now!
Eldest of the Gods art thou!

Heaven and earth by thee were made;

Human nature

Is thy creature,

Every where art thou obey'd.

CUPID.

'Tis I that have warm'd you :
In spite of cold weather,
I've brought you together;

"Tis I that have warm'd you.

CHORUS.

'Tis Love that has warm'd us:

In spite of cold weather,

He brought us together:

'Tis Love that has warm'd us.

Dryden.

GLEE for Four Voices.

JOHN SALE.

WITH an honest old friend, and a merry old song,
And a flask of old port, let me sit the night long ;
And laugh at the malice of those who repine,
That they must swig porter, while I can drink wine.

* I envy no mortal, though ever so great,
Nor scorn I a wretch for his lowly estate;
But what I abhor, and esteem as a curse,
Is poorness of spirit, not poorness of purse.

Then dare to be generous, dauntless, and gay,
Let's merrily pass life's remainder away;
Upheld by our friends, we our foes may despise,
For the more we are envied, the higher we rise.

Henry Carey, see Sir J. Hawkins's
Account, Vol. I. 84, and Ritson's,
Page 6 and 13.

*Second Verse not in the Glee,

GLEE for Four Voices.

WE fays and faires live unseen,

Or sporting on the new-mown green ;

From off the roses thorny lip,

Ambrosial dews and sweets we sip;
Steal the honey from the bee,
Dive for coral in the sea;

Suck the sweets from ev'ry flow'r,
Moistened by the evening hour;
On the moon's light beams we sit,
Through the air on bat's wings flit,
Till the cock proclaims the day,
Hark! now he crows, come away.

Dr. ARNOLD.

Mr. Arnold.

GLEE for Five Voices.

S. WEBBE.-Medal, 1776.

You gave me your heart t'other day,

I thought it as safe as my own;
I've not lost it, but, what can I say?
Not your heart from mine can be known!

Craddock.

YOUNG LOCHINVAR.

Dr. J. CLARKE.

YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west,

Through all the wide border his steed was the best,
And save his good broad-sword, he weapons had none :
He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone;
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like young Lochinvar;

He staid not for brake, and he stopt not for stone,
He swam the Esk-river, where ford there was none,
But e'er he alighted at Netherby gate,

The bride had consented; the gallant came late :
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar ;

So boldly he enter'd the Netherby-hall,

Among bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers and all,
Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword,
For the poor cravan bridegroom said never a word,
O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war ;
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar.

I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ;
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide,
And now am I come for this lost love of mine,
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar;