THE / ODE / FOR / New-Year’s-Day, 1697/8. / Set to Musick by Dr. BLOW.
Musick now thy Charms display,
Let all thy Tuneful Sons appear,
To Entertain the Genial Day,
And kindly Treat the Infant-Year.
Young as ’tis, it brings along
Blessings on its tender Wing;
Blessings to requite your Song;
Blessings that forestal the SPRING.
Chorus.] The promis’d Year is now arriv’d,
That has the Golden Age reviv’d.
The Prize our daring Warrior souht,
Is now completely gain’d;
Not poorly Begg’d, nor dearly Bought,
But Nobly in the Field obtain’d.
PEACE her self could boast no Charms
To draw our Hero from Alarms,
From glorious Danger ----- till she came
In Honours recommending Name,
And all the splendid pomp of Fame.
BELLONA else had still been heard,
Thundring through the lifted Plain;
EUROPE still, with restless Pain,
Had for her fearless Champion fear’d.
Harrass’d Nations, now at Rest,
Eccho to each other’s Joy,
Their Breath in grateful Songs employ,
For him who has their Griefs Redrest.
Chorus.] What then should Happy Brittain do?
Blest with the Gift and Giver too.
On Warlike Enterprizes bent
To Foreign Fields the Hero went;
The Dreadful Part He there perform’d
Of Battels Fought, and Cities Storm’d:
But now the Drum and Trumpet Cease,
And wish’d Success his Sword has Sheath’d,
To Us returns, with Olive wreath’d,
To practice here the milder Arts of PEACE.
Grand CHORUS.
Happy, Happy, past Expressing,
Britain, if thou know’st thy Blessing;
Home-bred Discord ne’er Alarm Thee,
Other Mischief cannot Harm Thee.
Happy, if thou know’st thy Blessing,
Happy, happy, past Expressing.
FINIS.
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