Court Odes: Dread Sir, father Janus


 Selected item (#5024) = Dread Sir, father Janus
 Attributes of this item 
incipit (first line(s), normalized): Dread Sir, father Janus
version (if more than one exists):
the item's genre (general): ode
the item's genre (specific): New Year’s Day
the institution/place or purpose 
for which the work was first destined:
English court
the work's year (or focal date, if known): 1683
author of the text: [poet unknown]
composer of the music: John Blow
Number of texts stored: 1  
  • Selected text (below): #304 / Source: GB-Lbl Add. 33287, ff. 125-130
    special title: ‘Dread Sr, Father Janus . &c: A new years Song January the First 16: Blow’
 Selected text (#304) / Source: GB-Lbl Add. 33287, ff. 125-130  
 Attributes of the selected text 
source for this text
(short title, or library & shelfmark):
GB-Lbl Add. 33287
location in the source?
(i.e. which vol., pp. or fols):
ff. 125-130
type of source: MS, music and words
the source online (if available):
modern edition of this text:
special title (if any): Dread Sr, Father Janus . &c: A new years Song January the First 16: Blow
version (if more than one exists):
about this transcription: Transcribed by Estelle Murphy, November 2022.
Transcription:          
   File options:

Dread Sr, Father Janus. &c: A new years Song January the First 16: Blow

Dread Sr. Father Janus, Times great overseer
Abhorring the factious designs of the past
With a Loyal address us come in post hast
To present you the Maidenhead of a new Year
Ritor

Not Debaucht with trait’rous Combinations
With Whiggish petitions or Associations
But fresh as the early Blushes of day
E’re the busy warm god has kist them away
Ritor

Verse
The nymble wing’d train of hours in the wain
With Triumphs begin to Lead the year in
And shortning the night bring tribute of Light
Then bow to the Throne tho Loath to be gone

Chorus
But having seen you they merrily fly
Keep time to the Spheres and sing as they Dye
Nature is constant, Loyal & true
‘tis unnatural not to give Caesar his due
Ritor

Verse solus
All due great Prince is yours whom Heaven sent
To be the Arrow of our Government
From you we date our past our present bliss
And growing hopes of future happiness
Ritor

Slow
Our floating Delos Long have been tost
By ev’ry mad Phanatical Blast.
Which popular Air has Rais’d to Reform
And Rebells Improv’d into a Storm

The moving Isle is fix’d & settled now,
Ye Basis of its Empire rests on your
In Gordian knots you’ve Ty’d the Royall Line
And made Succession as your Right Divine

Cho:
For all your Suff’rings all your Cares
Designing owes you the arrears
Of stoddy Joyes and numerous years
And when you Remove to be Crown’d above
Shall never want one to sitt on your Throne

Verse
The sons of the Earth the posthumous Birth
Of the foul Dragons teeth spit their Venome in vain
The serpentine Elfes will Ruine themselves
Great Charles in his Right forever shall Reign

Chorus
The sons of the Earth the posthumous Birth
Of the foul Dragons teeth spit their Venome in vain
The serpentine Elfes will Ruine themselves
Great Charles in his Right forever shall Reign


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