SONG.

INKLE AND YARICO.

YARICO.

UR grotto was the fweetest place!

The bending bows, with fragrance blowing, Would check the brook's impetuous pace, Which murmur'd to be ftopt from flowing. 'Twas there we met, and gaz'd our fill; Ah! think on this, and love me ftill.

II.

"Twas then my bofom first knew feat,
Fear to an Indian maid a ftranger:
The war-fong, arrows, hatchet, spear,
All warn'd me of my lover's danger.
For him did cares my bofom fill;
Ah! think on this, and love me still.

III.

"For him, by day with care conceal'd,

"To bring him food I climb'd the mountain; "And when the night no form reveal'd, "Jocund we fought the bubbling fountain.

"Then, then would joy my bosom fill;
"Ah! think on this, and love me ftill.",

FAVORITE AIR

IN RICHARD COEUR DE LION.

O!

MATILDA.

RICHARD! oh, my love!

By the faithless world forgot;

I alone in exile rove,

To lament thy hapless lot.

I alone of all remain

To unbind thy cruel chain,—
By the faithlefs world forgot:
I, whose bofom funk in grief,
Least of strength to yield relief.-

Delusive glory! faithless pow'r!
Thus the valiant you repay;
In difafter's heavy hour,
Faithless friendship's far away.
Yet, royal youth,

One faithful heart

From tendereft truth,

Tho' hopeless, never shall depart.

O! Richard! oh, my love!

By the faithlefs world forgot;

I alone in exile rove,

To lament thy hapless lot,

FAVORITE TWO-PART SONG

IN RICHARD COEUR DE LION.

MATILDA AND LAURETTE.

MATILDA.

HE God of Love a bandeau wears,

THE

Would you know what it declares, And why his eyes are clouded? "Tis to fhew us that his pow'r

Is ne'er fo fatal, ne'er fo fure,

As when in darkness fhrowded.

LAURETTE.

Good Sir, repeat that pretty ftrain,
Pray, again, again.

A leffon kind it does impart,

To guard against a lover's art.

MATILDA.

With all my heart.

The God of Love a bandeau wears,
Would you know what it declares,

And why his eyes are clouded:
"Tis to fhew us that his pow'r
Is ne'er fo fatal, ne'er fo fure,

As when in darkness fhrowded.

SONG.

SHAKSPEARE.

LOW, blow, thou winter's wind!

BLOW,

Thou art not fo unkind

As man's ingratitude :

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not feen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh ho! fing, heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning,-most loving mere folly: Then, heigh ho! the holly,

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,-
Thou doft not bite fo nigh

As benefits forgot.

Though thou the waters warp,

Thy fting is not so fharp

As friend remember'd not.

Heigh ho! fing, heigh ho! unto the green holly: Moft friendship is feigning,-most loving mere folly: Then, heigh ho! the holly,

This life is most jolly.

THE SAILOR's SONG.

SUNG BY MR. MEREDITH.

W

HEN it is night, and the mid-watch is come,

And chilling mists hang o'er the darken'd main, Then failors think of their far diftant home,

And of those friends they ne'er may fee again.
But when the fight's begun,

Each ferving at his gun,

Should any thought of them come o'er your mind,— Think, only, fhould the day be won,

How 'twill chear

The heart, to hear

That their old companion-he was one.

II.

Or, my lad, if you a mistress kind

Have left on fhore, fome pretty girl, and true, Who many a night doth listen to the wind,

And figh to think how it may fare with you.
O! when the fight's begun,

And ferving at his gun,

Should any thought of her come o'er your mind,— Think, only, fhould the day be won,

How 'twill chear

Her heart, to hear

That her own true failor-he was one,