TO THE

A U Τ Η Ο R

OF

R O S A M O N D.

-Ne forte pudori
Sir tibi musa lyræ solers, et cantor Apollo.

By Mr. TICKEL L.

T

HE Opera first Italian masters taught,

Enrich'd with fongs, but innocent of thought.
Britannia's learned theatre disdains
Melodious trifles, and enervate strains ;
And blushes on her injur'd stage to see
Nonsense well-tun'd, and sweet stupidity.

No charms are wanting to thy artful song,
Soft as Corelli, but as Virgil strong.
From words so sweet new grace the notez receive,
And music borrows helps, she us'd to give.
B 2

Thy

[4]
Thy ftile hath match'd what ancient Romans knew,
Thy flowing numbers far excel the new ;
Their cadence in such easy found convey'd,
That height of thought may seem superfluous aid ;
Yet in such charms the noble thoughts abound,
That needless seem the sweets of easy found.

Landskips how gay the bow'ry grotto yields,
Which thought creates, and lavish fancy builds!
What art can trace the visionary scenes,
The flow'ry groves, and everlasting greens,
The babbling sounds that mimic echo plays,
The fairy shade, and its eternal maze,
Nature and art in all their charms combin'd,
And all Elysium to one view confin'd!
No farther could imaginaiton roam,
Till Vanbrugh fram'd, and Marlbro' rais'd the dome.

Ten thousand pangs my anxious bosom tear,
When drown'd in tears I see th' imploring fair :
When bards less soft the moving words supply,
A seeming justice dooms che nymph to die :
But here she begs, nor can she begin vain,
(In dirges thus expiring fwans complain)
Each verfe so swells, expressive of her woes,
And ev'ry tear in lines so mournful flows ;
We, spite of fame, her fate revers'd believe,
O'erlook her crimes, and think she ought to live.

Let

Let joy transport fair Rosamonda's shade, And wreaths of myrtle crown the lovely maid. While now perhaps with Dido's ghost she roves, And hears and tells the story of their loves, Alike they mourn, alike they bless their fate, Since love, which made 'em wretched, makes 'em great, Nor longer that relentless doom bemoan, Which gain'd a Virgil, and an Addison.

Accept, great monarch of the British lays, The tribute fong an humble subject pays. So tries the artless fark her early flight, And soars, to hail the God of verse and light. Unrivald as thy merit be thy fame, And thy own faurels shade thy envy'd name : Thy name, the boast of all the tuneful choir, Shall tremble on the strings of ev'ry lyre ; While the charm'd reader with thy thought complies; Feels corresponding joys or forrows rise, And views thy Rosamond with Henry's eyes.

Dramatis

King Henry.
Sir Trusty, keeper of the bower.

Page.
Messenger.

W O M E N.

Queen Elinor.

Rofamond

Grideline, wife to Sir Trusty.

Guardian Angels, &c.

SCENE Woodstock-Park.

ROSA

5

ROS A M O N D.

A CT I. SCENE I.

A Prospect of Woodstock-Park, terminating

in tbe Bower.

Enter QUE EN and På Gh.

QUEEN.

WHAT place is here !

is here!
What scenes appear!
Where-e'r I turn my eyes,
All around
Enchanted ground

And soft Elysiums rife :
Flowry mountains,
Mofly fountains,

Shady woods,
Chrystal floods,
With wild variety surprise.