[A fymphony of inftruments is heard, whilst Apollo defcends in the chariot of the fun; a crown of rays about his head, and his lyre in his hand.

DAPHNE.

What founds coeleftial ftrike my ear!
Why does the golden fource of light
Pour out new day ?-how wondrous bright!
Some god defcends to human fight;
I'm charm'd, yet aw'd with fear.

APOLLO.

Daphne on Phoebus fix thy eye,
With meaner fhapes deceiv'd no more!
Know, I thy beauteous form adore:

Wilt thou a god, a god that loves thee, fly?

[Apollo ftrikes his lyre, and Daphne turns back as furprized at the found.

Fairest mortal! ftay and hear,

Turn thee, leave thy trembling fear!

Cannot Love with Mufick join'd

Touch thy unrelenting mind?

Fairest mortal! ftay and hear,

Turn thee, leave thy trembling fear.

Hark how the river-fhores prolong

My foft complaints, and murmur to my fong!

Thy

Thy father Peneus feels my pain;
See! how his ofiers gently bow,
And feem my fecret foul to know-

DAPH. afide.] Alas! my rafh, my fatal vow!
APOL. Wilt thou alone unmov'd remain ?

[As Daphne is going out, fhe ftops, and fings
the following air.

DAPHNE.

Shall I return ?-or no?-
Charms yet unknown furround me;
Yet, Love, thou ne'er fhalt wound me,
No more alarm my breast.
Then let me haite to go-
Ah no, my heart replies
In tender heaving fighs.-

Ye

powers reftore my reft.

SCENE changes to the river.

Re-enter DAPHNE looking back as affrighted.

DAPHNE.

He comes the swift purfuer comes-O where
Shall I escape his piercing fight,

Where hide me from the God of Light?
Ah! 'tis in vain-he's here.

[DAPHNE runs to the fide of the river, and, as
fhe fings the following air, is transformed into
a laurel-tree.

Father Peneus! hear me, aid me!
Let fome fudden change invade me,
Fix me rooted on thy shore.
Ceafe, Apollo, to perfuade me,
I am Daphne now no more-

[APOLLO enters at the latter end of the air,
and is met by Peneus.

APOLLO.

O fatal flight!-O curst disdain !

O Peneus, how shall we our lofs deplore?
But fee!

The trembling branches yet her shape retain !
Though Daphne lives a nymph no more,
She lives, fair verdant plant, in thee:
Henceforth be thou Apollo's tree,

And hear what honours to thy leaves remain.

No

No thunder e'er shall blast thy boughs,
Preferv'd to grace Apollo's brows,
Kings, victors, poets, to adorn;
Oft in Britannia's ifle thy profperous green
Shall on the heads of her great chiefs be feen,
And by a Naffau, and a George, be worn.

PENEUS.

Still Peneus, with a father's care,
Shall feed thee from his flowing urn
With verdure ever fresh and fair,

Nor this thy deftin'd change shall mourn.

7

CHORUS, or Duetto of Apollo and Peneus.

Nature alone can love infpire,

Art is vain to move defire.

If nature once the fair incline,
To their own paffion they refign.
Nature alone can love infpire,
Art is vain to move defire.

AN