Hence ye fecret damps of care,
Fierce difdain, and cold despair.
Hence ye fears and doubts remove;
Hence grief and hate!
Ye pains that wait

On jealoufy, the rage of love.

My Henry fball be mine alone,
The hero shall be all my own ;
Nobler joys poffefs my beart,
Than crowns and Scepters can impart.

ACT

B

ACT III SCENE I.

SCENE a grotto, HENRY afleep, a cloud defcends, in it two angels fuppos'd to be the guardian Spirits of the British Kings in war and in peace.

1 ANGE L.

EHOLD the unhappy monarch there,
That claims our tutelary care!

2 ANGEL.

In fields of death around his head

A fhield of adamant I spread.

1ANGE L.

In hours of peace, unfeen, unknown,
I hover o'er the British throne.

2 ANGE L.
When hofts of foes with foes engage,
And round th' anointed hero rage,
The cleaving faulchion I misguide, j
And turn the feather'd fhaft afide.
1 ANGEL
When dark fermenting factions fwell,
And prompt th' ambitious to rebel,
A thoufand terrors I impart,
And damp the furious traitor's heart,

вот н.

BOTH.

But oh what influence can remove

The pangs of grief, and rage of love!

2.ANGEL.!

I'll fire his foul with mighty themes, 'Till love before ambition fly.

I ANGEL.

I'll footh his cares in pleafing dreams,
'Till grief in joyful raptures die.
2 ANGE L.
Whatever glorious and renɔvn'd
On British annals can be found;
Whatever actions shall adorn
· Britannia's heroes, yet unborn,
In dreadful vifions fall fucceed;
On fancy'd fields the Gaul shall bleed,
Crefly ball fand before his eyes,
And Agincourt and Blenheim rise.
ANGEL.

See, fee, he fmiles amidst his trance,
And fhakes a vifionary lance:
His brain is fill'd with loud alarms;
Shouting armies, clafhing arms,
The fofter prints of love deface;
And trumpets found in ev'ry trace
SABOTH

Glory ftrives!

The field is won l'

Fame revives,

And love is gone.

I ANGEL.

To calm thy grief, and lull thy cares,
Look up and fee

What after long revolving years,
Thy bower fhall be!

When, time its beauties fhall deface,

And only with its ruins grace,
The future profpect of the place.
Behold the glorious pile afcending!❤
Columns fwelling, arches bending,
Domes in awful pomp arifing,
Art in curious ftrokes furprising,
Foes in figur'd fights contending,
Behold the glorious pile afcending!
2 ANGE L.

He fees, he fees the great reward
For Anna's mighty chief prepar'd:
His growing joys no measure keep,
Too vehement and fierce her Deep.
1 ANGE L.

Let grief and love at once engage,
His beart is proof to all their pain;
Love may plead-

.2 ANGEL,

And grief may rage
в от н.

}

But both fball plead and

rage in vain.

[The angels afcend, and the vifion disappears * Scene changes to the plan of Blenheim-castle.

HENRY,

HENRY, farting from the couch. Where have my ravish'd fenfes been! What joys, what wonders, have I feen! The scene yet stands before my eye, A thousand glorious deeds that lie In deep futurity obfcure, Fights and triumphs immature, Heroes immers'd in time's dark womb, Ripening for mighty years to come, Break forth, and, to the day display'd, My foft inglorious hours upbraid. Transported with fo bright a scheme, My waking life appears a dream. Adieu, ye wanton fbades and bowers, Wreaths of myrtle, beds of flowers,

Rofy brakes,

Silver lakes,

To love and you
A long adieu!
O Rofamond! O rifing woe!

Why do my weeping eyes o'erflow?

O Rofamond! O fair diftrefs'd,

How shall my heart, with grief opprefs'd,
Its unrelenting purpose tell ;

And take the long, the last fareweb!

Rife, glory, rife in all thy charms,
Thy waving creft, and burnish'd arms,
Spread thy gilded banners round,

Make thy thundering courfer bound,