| AN / IDYLLE / ON THE / PEACE, / Concluded, between the Most Serene / ANNE, / By the Grace of God, QUEEN of / GREAT-BRITAIN, &c. / AND / The Most Christian and Catholick Kings, / of FRANCE and SPAIN, &c.
By Their Excellencies the Lords Justices Command.
Set by Mr. John Sigismond Cousser, / Chappel –Master of Thrinity-College. / And Perform’d at the / Theatre-Royal in Dublin, / The Sixteenth Day of June, 1713. / DUBLIN: Printed by Edwin Sandys, at the Cusom- / House Printing-House in Essex-Street, 1713.
An IDYLLE on the PEACE.
PERSONS.
Peace, Victory, Discord, Felicity, Plenty.
Peace and her Followers Inchain’d.
Peace. Happy Queen, in whose calm Bosom
Tender Goodness always Reigns.
Break these Chaons, or gently Loose e’m,
And may Glory Crown your Pains.
Here Barb’rous Discord in strait bonds confines me,
And unrelenting Prides to see my Torment:
These Sighs, that swell my Bosom,
Alas! by none can ever be relieved.
If from these gives by you I’m not Retrived.
Freedom is a Sovereign Blessing,
That from Vertuous Monarchs Flows;
Of that Treasure by possessing
Ev’ry one the Value know’s,
Discord enters with lighted Torches in her Hand.
Discord. Sign on, sad Peace, and even burst with sorrow!
Don’t hope, that ANNA, whom I’ve long Engag’d,
Will hear your plantive Murmurs.
She still shall Reap a Harvest of new Laurels:
More work I’ll cut out for her Marti’al Captains:
Oppose new glori’ous Hazards,
To make Her wond’rous Reign the most Illustri’ous.
Wing’d Vic’try waits upon Her conqu’ring Squadrons,
Ev’n in the farthest Climats.
Now shou’d She prize in glorious Peace befre me,
She’ll check the Cours of Her extending Glory.
Conquering Legions,
Traversing Regions,
In glorious Tryumphs their Banners display;
The gleaming Steel, and Lightning blazing,
Horrour dispersing at Land and by Sea,
Bright Trophies for ever are Raising.
Aria.
Peace. Grievous Torments, that I Bear!
Must I in this manner Languish,
Void of help to ease my anguish,
Quite abandon’d to dispair?
Dawning hopes no more Revolving
Leave me here in tears dissolving.
Discord. Those moansyou make, are useless;
’Tis vain to hope for Succour.
Aria.
Peace. Was I sure to be released,
Tho’ an age was spent Before;
Those dire pains shou’d be decreased,
And I’d less my Fate deplore.
Discord. This noise of Vict’ry makes me apprehensive,
She’ll soon descend in Her Aerial Chariot.
How much I shall be pleased!
Go shew to Her my Enemy despairing,
From her confinement e’re to be Released.
An Air for Trupmets and Kettle-Drums.
Victory comes in a Triumphant Carr.
Victory. Come lovely peace, the Conqu’ror calls;
Delay not, Lovely peace.
She’ll lead you to a pleasing Place,
And be a guide to you most faithful.
Come, come, to this sweet seat,
The most Serene, Refreshing and Delightful.
Come, lovely peace, the Conqu’ror calls;
Delay not, lovely Peace.
Peace. Ah! how my Joy’s are Doubled!
Discord. Ah! how my thoughts are troubled!
Ingrateful Vict’ry, shou’d she be Deprived
Of Liberty by you, from whom your honour, And all you have, entirely are derived?
Victory. When Wars have raged,
How sweet is Peace!
Mens minds asswaged
It’s Author Bless.
Discord. Thy cares for that great Queen might have been greater.
Why didst thou not conduct Her,
Where num’rous Crops of Lawrels still are growing?
All which are to the Bitish Valour owing.
Victory. When Wars have raged,
How sweet is Peace!
Mens minds asswaged
It’s Author Bless.
As soon as the ust Ends of War are gained,
No further Views to Kill shou’d be Retained.
When Wars have raged,
How sweet is Peace!
Mens minds asswaged
It’s Author Bless.
Discord. How cruel is this Slav’ry!
I ne’re shall see hereafter
Confusion Blood and Slaughter!
Sad despair for ever seize me,
There’s no means to be pursued;
None will offer to release me,
Since my Fav’rites are subdued,
Nothing now my Rage supplyeth,
But my heart, on which it pryeth.
How cruel is this Slav’ry!
Victory. Beneath the deep abyss of dismal horrour,
Where Discord groans with Chains of Iron-loaded,
May all, that share Her Madness
Partake of Her Just Torment.
Within the Gloomy Vaults of Hell,
Fierce Discord and Her cursed Train,
Are doom’d eternally to Yell,
An ne’re return to light again.
Discord sinks under Ground.
Thou dire abode, change to a fairer Prospect.
of Peace, and those best Blessings, that attend Her,
That all Her charms may see, and Recommend Her.
Aria.
Vict. Peace. à 2. Her glory’s increase,
And never shall cease;
The World will adore Her,
Th’ opprest will implore Her,
The happy Restorer
Of amiable Peace;
Her glory’s &c.
Aria, Ă 2.
I.
Felic. Plen, Ă 2. While the blind Fury of Wars was alarming,
Love has been banish’d, and hindered to Reign;
Now w’are Restor’d to a Peace the Most charming
Why shou’d he not be Restor’d again?
Let us now yield to the God of kind Lovers,
Who is prepar’d with a Charm for each heart;
Nothing so gen’rous a Goodness discovers,
Or can such Various pleasures impart.
2.
In all the Fetters, that love e’re Imposeth,
There’s none that think that themselves are opprest;
His is a Bondage, that ev’ry one chooseth,
Thinking themselves in the midst of it Blest.
Let us now, &c.
Peace. Behold! they have lay’d by their Ensigns of War,
Their Passions and Swords are Retired to Rest.
A Coud of soft Pleasures comes flocking from far,
And all by this change, shall be mightily Blest.
The Chorus Repeat these 4 Lines.
Let not a Sigh hence from you Steal,
Or silent Tear escape your Eyes;
Unless to tell an am’rous Tale,
And pitty move in that disguise.
Behold, &c.
What solid Joys from Peace accrue,
The Frightful wastes of War disclose:
These Monstrous ills at distant View
Shou’d all Mens minds to Peace dispose.
Behold, &c.
END.
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