SONG,

IN ALBION AND ALBANIUS.

ALBION, lov'd of gods and men,
Prince of Peace too mildly reigning,
Ceafe thy forrow and complaining,
Thou shalt be restor❜d again :
Albion, lov'd of gods and men.

II.

Still thou art the care of heaven,
In thy youth to exile driven :
Heaven thy ruin then prevented,
Till the guilty land repented :

In thy age, when none could aid thee,
Foes confpir'd, and friends betray'd thee.
To the brink of danger driven,

Still thou art the care of heaven.

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SONG,

IN KING ARTHUR,

Where a battle is supposed to be given behind the scenes, with drums, trumpets, and military fhouts and excurfions; after which, the Britons, expreffing their joy for the victory, fing this fong of triumph.

COME, if you dare, our trumpets sound ;
Come, if
you dare, the foes rebound:

We come, we come, we come, we come,
Says the double, double, double beat of the
thundering drum.

Now they charge on amain,

Now they rally again:

The gods from above the mad labour behold,
And pity mankind, that will perish for gold.
The fainting Saxons quit their ground,
Their trumpets languish in the found:
They fly, they fly, they fly, they fly;
Victoria, Victoria, the bold Britons cry.

Now the victory's won,

To the plunder we run:

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We return to our laffes like fortunate traders, Triumphant with spoils of the vanquish'd in

vaders.

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SONG,

IN KING ARTHUR.

Man fings. OH fight, the mother of defires, What charming objects doft thou yield! 'Tis fweet, when tedious night ex

pires,

To fee the rofy morning gild

The mountain-tops, and paint the field!

But when Clarinda comes in fight,

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She makes the fummer's day more bright;

And when he goes away, 'tis night.

Chor. When fair Clarinda comes in fight, &c.

Wom. fings. 'Tis fweet the blushing morn to

view;

And plains adorn'd with pearly dew:

But fuch cheap delights to fee,

Heaven and nature

Give each creature ;

They have eyes, as well as we;

This is the joy, all joys above,
To fee, to fee,

That only fhe,

That only the we love!

Chor. This is the joy, all joys above, &c.

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SONG,

IN KING ARTHUR.

TWO daughters of this aged stream are we ; And both our fea-green locks have comb'd for

thee;

Come bathe with us an hour or two,

Come naked in, for we are fo:

What danger from a naked foe?

Come bathe with us, come bathe and share,

What pleasures in the floods appear;
We'll beat the waters till they bound,
And circle round, around, around,

And circle round, around.

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SONGS TO BRITANNIA,

IN KING ARTHUR.

SONG I.

YE bluftering brethren of the skies,

Whose breath has ruffled all the watry plain, Retire, and let Britannia rife,

In triumph o'er the main.

appear:

Serene and calm, and void of fear,
The Queen of Islands muft
Serene and calm, as when the Spring
The new created world began,
And birds on boughs did foftly fing
Their peaceful homage paid to man;
While Eurus did his blafts forbear,
In favour of the tender year.
Retreat, rude winds, retreat

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To hollow rocks, your ftormy feat;
There fwell your lungs, and vainly, vainly

threat.

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