On thy buds of roles playing, Zephyr gently courts thee now. RECITATIVE. Thus on a fruitful hill, in the fair bloom of spring, AIR. Love and pleasure gaily flowing, S 15 20 CANTAT A IV. MIR A ND A. RECITATIVE, MIRANDA's tuneful voice and fame Had reach'd the wondering skies; From heaven the god of Mufic came, Then, in a foft melodious lay, A,I R. Matchlefs charmer! thine fhall be Phoebus ever will inspire thee, And th' applauding world admire thee ; All shall in thy praise agree. Matchlefs charmer! thine shall be The highest prize of harmony. RECITATIVE. The god then fummon'd every Mufe t' appear, And hail their fifter of the quire; 5 10 15 Smiling they food around, her foothing ftrains to hear, And fill'd her happy foul with all their fire. AIR. O harmony! how wondrous fweet, Doft thou our cares allay! When When all thy moving graces meet, How foftly dost thou steal our easy hours away! 20 CAN N T TATA V. CORY DON. RECITATIVE.. WHILE Corydon the lonely shepherd try'd His tuneful flute, and charm'd the grove, The jealous nightingales, that ftrove To trace his notes, contending dy'd; At last he hears within a myrtle shade An echo anfwer all his strain; Love stole the pipe of fleeping Pan, and play'd; Gay fhepherd, to befriend thee, This bower's the happy place. Here pleafing feenes attend thee, 5 10 15 O this way speed thy pace! RE RECITATIVE. The fhepherd rofe, he gaz'd around, 20 The reigning beauty of the groves furpriz'd the shep herd's fight. AIR. Who, from Love his heart securing, Can avoid th' inchanting pain? Pleasure calls with voice alluring, Who, from Love his heart fecuring, CAN TATA THE COQUE T. RECITATIVE. AIRY Cloe, proud and young, The fairest tyrant of the plain, He fadly figh'd-She gayly fung, And, wanton, thus reproach'd his pain. 25 30 VI. 5 AIR. Leave me, filly shepherd go; You only tell me what I know, You view a thousand charms in me ; You only tell me what I know, RECITATIVE. Amyntor, fir'd by this disdain, Curs'd the proud fair, and broke his chain 15 And vow'd, he'd be Love's fool no moreBut Cloe fmil'd, and thus she call'd him back again. AIR. Shepherd, this I've done to prove thee, Now thou art a man, I love thee, And without a blush refign. 20 But ungrateful is the paffion, And destroys our inclination, When, like flaves, our lovers whine. And without a blush resign. 25 THE |