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THE CAPTIVITY:

AN ORATORIO.'

ACT I.

SCENE. Israelites sitting on the banks of the Euphrates.

FIRST PROPHET.

Recitative.

YE captive tribes, that hourly work and weep
Where flows Euphrates, murmuring to the deep —
Suspend a while the task, the tear suspend,

And turn to God, your father and your friend:
Insulted, chain'd, and all the world a foe,

Our God alone is all we boast below.

From the autograph of the poet, 1764; a valuable manuscript, communicated to the publishers by Mr. Murray of Albemarle-street. Portions of two of the songs, printed in italics, are from The haunch of Venison, etc. 1776. The dramatis personæ, omitted in the manuscript, may be thus stated: First Israelitish prophet; second Israelitish prophet; Israelitish woman; first Chaldean priest; second Chaldean priest; Chaldean woman; chorus of Israelites, etc. — The captivity of Hoshea, and the ten tribes of Israel, is assigned to the year 721; the captivity of Zedekiah, King of Judah, to 587; and the conquest of Babylon, by Cyrus, to 538, B.C.-This oratorio was never performed; nor, I believe, ever set to music.

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Chorus of ISRAELITES.

Our God is all we boast below,

To him we turn our eyes;
And every added weight of woe
Shall make our homage rise:

And though no temple richly dress'd,
Nor sacrifice is here -

We'll make his temple in our breast,

And offer up a tear.

SECOND PROPHET.

Recitative.

That strain once more: it bids remembrance rise,

And calls my long lost country to mine eyes.
Ye fields of Sharon, dress'd in flowery pride;
Ye plains, where Jordan rolls its glassy tide;
Ye hills of Lebanon, with cedars crown'd;
Ye Gilead groves, that fling perfumes around:

These hills how sweet! those plains how wondrous fair!
But sweeter still, when Heaven was with us there.

Air.

O memory! thou fond deceiver —

Still importunate and vain;

To former joys recurring ever,
And turning all the past to pain.

Thou, like the world, the oppress'd oppressing,
Thy smiles increase the wretch's woe;
And he who wants each other blessing,
In thee must ever find a foe.

FIRST PROPHET.

Recitative.

Yet, why repine? what, though by bonds confin'd.
Should bonds enslave the vigor of the mind?
Have we not cause for triumph, when we see
Ourselves alone from idol-worship free?

Are not this very day those rites begun
Where prostrate folly hails the rising sun?
Do not our tyrant-lords this day ordain
For superstitious rites and mirth profane?

And should we mourn? Should coward virtue fly
When impious folly rears her front on high?

No; rather let us triumph still the more

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And as our fortune sinks, our wishes soar.

Air.

The triumphs that on vice attend

Shall ever in confusion end;

The good man suffers but to gain,
And every virtue springs from pain:

As aromatic plants bestow

No spicy fragrance while they grow-
But crush'd, or trodden to the ground,
Diffuse their balmy sweets around.

SECOND PROPHET.

Recitative.

But hush, my sons! our tyrant-lords are near

The sound of barbarous mirth offends mine ear;
Triumphant music floats along the vale—

Near, nearer still, it gathers on the gale;

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The growing note their near approach declares Desist, my sons, nor mix the strain with theirs.

Enter Chaldean priests, attended.

FIRST PRIEST.

Air.

Come on, my companions, the triumph display -
Let rapture the minutes employ;

The sun calls us out on this festival day,

And our monarch partakes of our joy.

Like the sun, our great monarch all pleasure supplies:

Both similar blessings bestow.

The sun with his splendor illumines the skies;

And our monarch enlivens below.

CHALDEAN WOMAN.

Haste! ye sprightly sons of pleasure,
Love presents its brightest treasure ;

Leave all other sports for me.

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