VENUS AND ADONIS,

B

A

CANTAT A.

SET BY M R. HANDE L.

RECITATIVE.

EHOLD where weeping Venus ftands! What more than mortal grief can move The bright, th' immortal Queen of Love? She beats her breaft, the wrings her hands And hark, the mourns, but mourns in vain, Her beauteous, lov'd Adonis, flain.

;

The hills and woods her lofs deplore;
The Naiads hear, and flock around;

And Echo fighs, with mimick found,
Adonis is no more!

Again the goddess raves, and tears her hair;
Then vents her grief, her love, and her despair.

AIR.

Dear Adonis, beauty's treasure,
Now my forrow, once my pleafure;

O return to Venus' arms!
Venus never will forfake thee;
Let the voice of Love o'ertake thee,
And revive thy drooping charms.

RE.

RECITATIVE.

A

Thus, Queen of Beauty, as thy Poets feign,
While thou didst call the lovely swain ;
Transform'd by heavenly power,
The lovely fwain arose a flower,
And, fmiling, grac'd the plain.

And now he blooms, and now he fades ;

Venus and gloomy Proferpine

Alternate claim his charms divine;

20

25

By turns reftor❜d to light, by turns he feeks the shades,

CA N TA TA.

PASTORA L.

SET BY DR. PEPUS CH.

17

RECITATIVE.

OUNG Strephon, by his folded sheep,
Sat wakeful on the plains:

Love held his weary eyes

from fleep,

While, filent in the vale,

The liftening nightingale

Forgot her own, to hear his ftrains.

And now the beauteous Queen of Night,

Unclouded and ferene,

Sheds on the neighbouring fea her filver light; The neighbouring sea was calm and bright; The fhepherd fung inspir'd, and blefs'd the lovely scene.

AIR.

While the fky and feas are shining,
See, my Flora's charms they wear;
Secret night, my joys divining,
Pleas'd my amorous tale to hear;
Smiles, and foftly turns her fphere.
While the sky and feas are fhining,
See, my Flora's charms they wear.

RE

RECITATIVE.

Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy ftrain;
The lovely stene falle joy infpires:
For look, thou fond, deluded fwain,
A rising storm invades the main !
The Planet of the night,

Inconitant, from thy fight

Behind a cloud retires.

Flora is fled; thou lov'ft in vain :al entre
Ah, foolish Strephon! change thy ftrain.

Like the moon and ocean changing,
More inconftant proves than they.

FAIR rival to the god of day,

Beauty, to thy cœleftial ray

A thousand fprightly fruits we owe ;
Gay wit, and moving eloquence,
And every art t' improve the fense,
And every grace that fhines below.

I

II. Not

II.

Not Phoebus does our songs inspire,
Nor did Cyllenius form the lyre,
'Tis thou art Musick's living spring;
To thee the Poet tunes his lays,
And, fweetly warbling Beauty's praise,
Describes the power that makes him fing.
III.

"Painters from thee their skill derive,
By thee their works to ages live,
For ev'n thy shadows give surprize,
As when we view in crystal streams
The morning fun, and rifing beams
That seem to fhoot from other skies.
IV.

Enchanting vifion! who can be!
Unmov'd that turns his eyes on thee?
Yet brighter ftill thy glories shine,
And double charms thy power improve,
When Beauty, dreßt in smiles of Love,
Grows, like its parent Heaven, divine!

MYRA.