SERENADE.

FROM THE DUENNA.

ANTHONIO.

ELL me, my lute, can thy fond strain

TELL

So gently speak thy master's pain,

So fwcetly fing, fo humbly figh,

That tho' my fleeping love should know
Who fings, who fighs below,

Her rofy flumbers fhall not fly?

Thus may fome vifion whisper more
Than ever I dare speak before!

Andantino.

The crimson morn bids hence the night;-
Unvail thofe beauteous eyes, my fair;
For till the dawn of love is there,
I feel no day,

own no light.

Waking,

Waking,

LOUISA.

I heard thy numbers chide;

the dawn did blefs my fight;

"Tis Phoebus fure that woos, cried,

Who fpeaks in song-who moves in light.

H

SONG.

Don Ferdinand.

DUENN A.

CRUEL maid, how haft thou chang'd
The temper of my mind;

My heart, by thee from mirth estrang'd,
Becomes, like thee, unkind.-

By Fortune favor'd, clear in Fame,

I once ambitious was;

And Friends I had that fann'd the flame, And gave my youth applause.

II.

But now my weakness all abuse,-
Yet vain their taunts on me;
Friends, Fortune, Fame itself, I'd lofe,
To gain one fmile from thee.
Yet only thou fhould'ft not despise

My folly, or my woe;

If I am mad in others eyes

"Tis thou haft made me fo.

III.

But days like thefe, with doubting curst,

I will not long endure:

Am I defpifed? I know the worst,

And alfo know my cure.

If, falfe, her vows fhe dare renounce,

She inftant ends my pain;

For oh! that heart muft break at once
Which cannot hate again.

SONG.

Don Ferdinand.

SHALL

DUENN A.

HALL not my foul to veng'ance now be mov'd?
By him I trusted robb'd of her I lov'd.

Sharp is the woe that wounds the jealous mind,
When treach'ry two fond hearts would rend;
But oh! how keener far the pang, to find
That traitor in our bofom friend.

SONG.

POOR SOLDIER.

Norah.

HE meadows look charming, the birds fweetly fing,

THE

So gaily they carol the praises of spring; Tho' nature rejoices, poor Norah shall mourn, Until her dear Patrick again fhall return.

II.

Ye laffes of Dublin, ah! hide your gay charms,
Nor lure
my dear Patrick from Norah's fond arms;
Tho' fattins and ribbons and laces are fine,

They hide not a heart with fuch feelings as mine.

SONG.

ROSIN A.

SET TO MUSIC BY MR. SHIELDS.

Belville.

[ER mouth, which a fmile,

HER

Devoid of all guile,

Half opens to view,

Is the bud of the rofe
In the morning that blows,
Impearl'd with the dew.

More fragrant her breath

Than the flow'r fcented heath

At the dawning of day,

The hawthorn in bloom,

The lilly's perfume,

Or the bloffoms of May.

William.

SONG.

ROSINA,

SET TO MUSIC BY MR. SHIELDS.

THEN bidden to the wake or fair,

WH

The joy of each free-hearted fwain,

Till Phœbe promis'd to be there,

I loiter'd laft of all the train.

If chance fome fairing caught my eye,-
The ribbon gay, or filken glove!
With eager hafte I ran to buy,

For what is gold compar'd to love?

II.

My poefy on her bofom plac'd,
Could Harry's fweeter fcents exhale;
Her auburn locks my ribbon grac'd,
And flutter'd in the wanton gale.
With scorn she hears me now complain,
Nor can my ruftic presents move:

Her heart prefers a richer swain,
And gold, alas! has banish'd love.

DUETT

IN

ROSIN A.

WILLIAM AND PHOEBE.

MUSIC BY MR. SHIELDS.

IN gaudy courts, with aching hearts,

The great at fortune rail;

The hills may higher honours claim,
But peace is in the vale.

See high-born dames, in rooms of state,

With midnight revels pale;

No youth admires their faded charms,
For beauty's in the vale.

Both.

Amid the fhades the virgin's fighs
Add fragrance to the gale;

So they that will, may take the hill,
Since love is in the vale.