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Ma che farò, la smania mi rapisce a me stessa
E in pianto inutil resto ah nò vanne; ma dove?
Si tremante e smarrita ove n'andrai.
Se moto il pie nontra,
Da chi sperar pieta?
Sorte spietata !
Ah, che non ho consiglio
Gia delirar mi fà.
When his loud voice in thunder spoke,
Observant of his dread command.
They now contract their boist'rous pride,
TRIO. Master CARTER, and Messrs. HALDON
Disdainful of danger, we'll rush on the foe;
That thy pow'r, O JEHOVAH, all nations may know.
SONG. Miss WALKER.
'Midst silent shades and purling streams
The god of love supinely dreams;
In rosy and fantastic chains
He leads deluded maids and swains:
In sweetest harmony they liv'd,
Nor death their union could divide:
The pious son ne'er left the father's side,
But him defending bravely died—
A loss too great to be surviv'd!
MONDAY, NOV. 16, 1807.
SONG. Miss WALKER.
While o'er thy cheek, desponding maid,
The tear of sorrow hangs so pale;
Why mov'st thou towards the mournful shade?
Where, rapt in love's delightful dream,
Thy lover, at the wonted hour,
Chides not thy stay with tender haste; His gentle form in yonder bower
Is now to earth's cold pillow prest:
Pale as the flower, whose snowy bell,
With tender songs to soothe his shade,
And friendship shed her warmest tear:
While virtue lives his worth to own,
GLEE. Masters TIDMAN and CARTER, and
Sweet to the morning traveller the skylark's early song, Whose twinkling wings are seen at fits the dewy light among; And cheering to the traveller the gales that round him play, As faint and wearily he drags along his noon-tide way.
And when the ev'ning light decays, and all is calm around, There is sweet music to his ear in the distant sheep bell's sound; And sweet the neighb'ring church's bell, that marks his journey's borne,
But sweeter is the voice of love that welcomes his return.