THRENODIA AUGUSTALIS. OVERTURE A SOLEMN DIRGE. AIR TRIO. ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise, And waken every note of woe! When truth and virtue reach the skies, 'Tis ours to weep the want below. CHORUS. When truth and virtue, &c. MAN SPEAKER. The praise attending pomp and power, Are but the trappings of an hour, Mere transitory things. The base bestow them; but the good agree To spurn the venal gifts as flattery. But when to pomp and power are join'd When titles are the smallest claim; When wealth, and rank, and noble blood, But aid the power of doing good, Then all their trophies last to fame. and flattery turns Blest spirit thou, whose fame, just born to bloom, Shall spread and flourish from the tomb, How hast thou left mankind for heaven! Alas! they never had thy hate: Thy towering mind self-centred stood, Like some well-fashion'd arch thy patience stood, SONG. BY A MAN-AFFETUOSO. Virtue, on herself relying, every shock that malice offers Only rocks her to repose. WOMAN SPEAKER. Yet, ah! what terrors frown'd upon her fate, - Fever, and pain, and pale consumptive care, Nor did the cruel ravagers design To finish all their efforts at a blow; But, mischievously slow, They robb'd the relic and defac'd the shrine. Despairing of relief, Her weeping children round Beheld each hour Death's growing power, And trembled as he frown'd. As helpless friends who view from shore They stood, while hope and comfort fail, The inevitable loss. Relentless tyrant, at thy call How do the good, the virtuous, fall! Truth, beauty, worth, and all that most engage, But wake thy vengeance, and provoke thy rage. SONG. BY A MAN- BASSO, STACCATO, SPIRITUOSO. When vice my dart and scythe supply, How great a king of terrors I! If folly, fraud, your hearts engage, Fall, round me fall, ye little things, MAN SPEAKER. Yet let that wisdom, urged by her example, When they have journey'd through a world of cares, Groans, weeping friends, indeed, and gloomy sables, May oft distract us with their sad solemnity: Death, when unmask'd, shows me a friendly face, For as the line of life conducts me on To Death's great court, the prospect seems more fair. 'Tis nature's kind retreat, that's always open To take us in when we have drain'd the cup Where all the humble, all the great, Promiscuously recline; Where, wildly huddled to the eye, The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie ; And ah! blest spirit, wheresoe'er thy flight, Through rolling worlds, or fields of liquid light, May cherubs welcome their expected guest; May saints with songs receive thee to their rest; May peace, that claim'd, while here, thy warmest SONG. BY A WOMAN -AMOROSO. Lovely, lasting Peace below, Comforter of every woe, Heavenly born, and bred on high, WOMAN SPEAKER. Our vows are heard! Long, long to mortal eyes, Her soul was fitting to its kindred skies: Celestial-like her bounty fell, Where modest want and patient sorrow dwell; Want pass'd for merit at her door, Unseen the modest were supplied, Her constant pity fed the poor, Then only poor, indeed, the day she died. And oh! for this, while sculpture decks thy shrine, And art exhausts profusion round, The tribute of a tear be mine, |