Oh, I am come from the holy land,
Where saints did live and die;

Behold the device I bear on my shield-
The red-cross knight am I ;

And we have fought in the holy land,

And have won the victory;

For with valiant might did the Christians fight,
And made the proud Pagans fly.

Thou'rt welcome here, dear red-cross knight,

Come lay thy armour by ;

And for the good tidings thou dost bring

We'll feast us merrily.

For all in my castle shall rejoice.

That we've won the victory;

And the mass shall be sung, and the bells shall be rung, And the feast eat merrily.

FINALE.

Borghi.

H

When o'er the deep abyss the storm's fierce rage,
Encreasing from afar, dread war does wage;
The dire contending elements pursue

The shatter'd vessels, dismal rocks in view.
The thunders rattle,

The light'nings flash,

Far o'er the darken'd ocean;

While floods of rain

Pour down amain,

Mountainous waves in motion.

Determin'd, up aloft the British sailor goes,

Where steadily he works 'midst such tremendous foes;
The awful fights around in dismal views appear,
Yet his undaunted heart scorns black despair or fear.

GLEE. Masters TIDMAN and CARTER, and

Messrs. HALDON and LIDDELL.

Swiftly from the mountain's brow,
Shadows, nurs'd by night, retire:

And the peeping sun-beams now
Paint with gold the village spire.

Sweet, O sweet, the warbling throng,
On the white emblossom'd spray;
Nature's universal song

Echoes to the rising day.

SIMPHONY.

Webbe.

Haydn.

SONG. Miss HAINES.

Handel.

Where'er you walk cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees where you sit shall crowd into a shade;
Where'er you tread the blushing flow'rs shall rise,
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.

6th GRAND CONCERTO.

Handel.

TRIO.

ACT II.

Boccherini.

Handel.

SONG. Master TIDMAN.

Pious orgies, pious airs,

Decent sorrow, decent pray'rs,

Will to the LORD ascend, and move

His pity, and regain his love.

28 GRAND CONCERTO.

SONG. Miss HAINES.

When first I saw thee graceful move,

Ah me! what meant my throbbing breast?

Say, soft confusion, art thou love?

If love thou art, then farewel rest!

Since doom'd I am to love thee, fair,
Tho' hopeless of a warm return;
Yet kill me not with cold despair,
But let me live, and let me burn.

With gentle smiles asswage the pain
Those gentle siniles did first create;
And, tho' you cannot love again,
In pity, oh! forbear to hate.

Corelli.

Hayes.

GLEE. Masters TIDMAN and CARTER, and

Messrs. HALDON and LIDDELL.

Ye spotted snakes, with double tongue,
Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;.
Newts and blind worms, do no wrong;
Come not near our fairy queen.
Philomel, with melody,

Sing in your sweet lullaby;
Never harm,

Nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh,
So good night, with lullaby.

Weaving spiders, come not here,
Hence! ye long legg'd spinners, hence!
Beetles black, approach not near,

Worms and snails, do no offence.
Philomel, &c.

FINALE.

Stevens.

Pleyel.