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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - Pastorale</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">MAN SPEAKER.<br>FAST by that shore where Thames' translucent stream<br>Reflects new glories on his breast,<br>Where, splendid as the youthful poet's dream,<br>He forms a scene beyond Elysium blest --<br>Where sculptur'd elegance and native grace<br>Unite to stamp the beauties of the place, <br>While sweetly blending still are seen<br>The wavy lawn, the sloping green --<br>While novelty, with cautious cunning,<br>Through ev'ry maze of fancy running,<br>From China borrows aid to deck the scene -- <br>There, sorrowing by the river's glassy bed,<br>Forlorn, a rural bard complain'd,<br>All whom Augusta's bounty fed,<br>All whom her clemency sustain'd;<br>The good old sire, unconscious of decay, <br>The modest matron, clad in homespun gray,<br>The military boy, the orphan'd maid,<br>The shatter'd veteran, now first dismay'd;<br>These sadly join beside the murmuring deep,<br>And, as they view <br>The towers of Kew,<br>Call on their mistress -- now no more -- and weep.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">CHORUS. -- AFFETTUOSO. -- LARGO.<br>Ye shady walks, ye waving greens,<br>Ye nodding towers, ye fairy scenes --<br>Let all your echoes now deplore <br>That she who form'd your beauties is no more.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">MAN SPEAKER.<br>First of the train the patient rustic came,<br>Whose callous hand had form'd the scene,<br>Bending at once with sorrow and with age,<br>With many a tear and many a sigh between; <br>'And where,' he cried, 'shall now my babes have bread,<br>Or how shall age support its feeble fire?<br>No lord will take me now, my vigour fled,<br>Nor can my strength perform what they require; <br>Each grudging master keeps the labourer bare --<br>A sleek and idle race is all their care.<br>My noble mistress thought not so:<br>Her bounty, like the morning dew,<br>Unseen, though constant, used to flow;<br>And as my strength decay'd, her bounty grew.' </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">WOMAN SPEAKER.<br>In decent dress, and coarsely clean,<br>The pious matron next was seen --<br>Clasp'd in her hand a godly book was borne,<br>By use and daily meditation worn;<br>That decent dress, this holy guide, <br>Augusta's care had well supplied.<br>'And ah!' she cries, all woe-begone,<br>'What now remains for me?<br>Oh! where shall weeping want repair,<br>To ask for charity? <br>Too late in life for me to ask,<br>And shame prevents the deed,<br>And tardy, tardy are the times<br>To succour, should I need.<br>But all my wants, before I spoke, <br>Were to my Mistress known;<br>She still reliev'd, nor sought my praise,<br>Contented with her own.<br>But ev'ry day her name I'll bless,<br>My morning prayer, my evening song, <br>I'll praise her while my life shall last,<br>A life that cannot last me long.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">SONG. BY A WOMAN.<br>Each day, each hour, her name I'll bless --<br>My morning and my evening song;<br>And when in death my vows shall cease, <br>My children shall the note prolong.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">MAN SPEAKER.<br>The hardy veteran after struck the sight,<br>Scarr'd, mangled, maim'd in every part,<br>Lopp'd of his limbs in many a gallant fight,<br>In nought entire -- except his heart. <br>Mute for a while, and sullenly distress'd,<br>At last the impetuous sorrow fir'd his breast.<br>'Wild is the whirlwind rolling<br>O'er Afric's sandy plain,<br>And wild the tempest howling <br>Along the billow'd main:<br>But every danger felt before --<br>The raging deep, the whirlwind's roar --<br>Less dreadful struck me with dismay,<br>Than what I feel this fatal day. <br>Oh, let me fly a land that spurns the brave,<br>Oswego's dreary shores shall be my grave;<br>I'll seek that less inhospitable coast,<br>And lay my body where my limbs were lost.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">SONG. BY A MAN. -- BASSO. SPIRITOSO.<br>Old Edward's sons, unknown to yield,<br>Shall crowd from Crecy's laurell'd field,<br>To do thy memory right;<br>For thine and Britain's wrongs they feel,<br>Again they snatch the gleamy steel,<br>And wish the avenging fight. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">WOMAN SPEAKER.<br>In innocence and youth complaining,<br>Next appear'd a lovely maid,<br>Affliction o'er each feature reigning,<br>Kindly came in beauty's aid;<br>Every grace that grief dispenses, <br>Every glance that warms the soul,<br>In sweet succession charmed the senses,<br>While pity harmonized the whole.<br>'The garland of beauty' -- 'tis thus she would say -- <br>'No more shall my crook or my temples adorn,<br>I'll not wear a garland -- Augusta's away,<br>I'll not wear a garland until she return;<br>But alas! that return I never shall see,<br>The echoes of Thames shall my sorrows proclaim, <br>There promised a lover to come -- but, O me!<br>'Twas death, -- 'twas the death of my mistress that came.<br>But ever, for ever, her image shall last,<br>I'll strip all the spring of its earliest bloom;<br>On her grave shall the cowslip and primrose be cast, <br>And the new-blossomed thorn shall whiten her tomb.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">SONG. BY A WOMAN. -- PASTORALE.<br>With garlands of beauty the queen of the May<br>No more will her crook or her temples adorn;<br>For who'd wear a garland when she is away,<br>When she is remov'd, and shall never return.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">On the grave of Augusta these garlands be plac'd,<br>We'll rifle the spring of its earliest bloom,<br>And there shall the cowslip and primrose be cast,<br>And the new-blossom'd thorn shall whiten her tomb.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=472317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">CHORUS. -- ALTRO MODO.<br>On the grave of Augusta this garland be plac'd,<br>We'll rifle the spring of its earliest bloom, <br>And there shall the cowslip and primrose be cast,<br>And the tears of her country shall water her tomb.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Oliver+Goldsmith">Oliver Goldsmith</a></strong></div>