A / SERENADE / To be Represented on the / BIRTH-DAY / Of His Most Sacred Majesty / GEORGE, / By the Grace of GOD / King of Great Britain, &c. / AT THE / Castle of Dublin the 28th of May, 1719. / By his Grace the Duke of Bolton’s Special Command. / Compose’d by Mr. JOHN SIGISMOND COUSSER, Master of the / Musick, attending His Majesties Stte in Ireland, and Chap- / pel Master of TRINITY COLLEGE. / DUBLIN. / Printed by Thomas Hume, in Smock-Alley next Dorr to / the Walsh’s Head, 1719.
PERSONS. / APOLLO. / BRITANNIA. / MARS. / HIBERNIA. / CHORUS.
A / SERENADE
CHORUS.
ALL hail! thou most auspicious Day,
Once big with Britain’s secret Fate,
Thy dawning Beams of Light display,
Thro’ future Age fortunate .
May Britains Sons in num’rous Throns
They early Harbringer caress,
All tell their joy in gladsome Songs,
Secur’d of lasting happiness.
All hail!
APOLLO.
Without my Light and Heat, all blooming Nature
Wou’d quickly fade: Tose sweet, those pleasing Objects,
That meet the ravish’d Senses,
Wou’d loose their Charms. Confusion
Wou’d soon succeed her most harmonious Order.
Ever pleasing, lovely May
All thy charming Sweets disply,
All thy flowry Tribute bring
To fair Britain’s God-like King.
Increase, if thou hast it too
Tho’ a Mortal, is His Due.
BRITANNIA.
Even its own wight soon overthrows a Power,
By Knowledge not directed.
So the tall Ship steer’d by an Artless Pilot,
At first the Sport of some impetuous Tempest,
Splits on a Rock, or founders
In the devouring Ocean.
Hence, ye importuning Fears,
Anxious Thoughts suspicious Cares,
One for Wisdom famous grown,
Happily now fills the Throne.
MARS.
Where few reserve my Power,
Or Alters raise to my superior God-Head,
Invade their Youth, A People
With Luxry thus debauched,
Become the easy Prey of their Invaders.
Britain’s Martial Sons awaking,
Quit your soft enchanting Ease;
Warlike Actions undertaking,
Monuments of Glory raise.
Watchful Fame on you Attending
Waits to give the lofty Sound;
Your unequal’d Deeds commending
Whereso’ere the Sun goes round.
HIBERNIA.
The choicest Blessings without Intermission
Enjoy’d, grow flat, and lessen
In Men’s Imaginations:
Then Absence always wakens
The inadvertent Mind, and by Experience
Informs it duly of its Former Errour.
No fickle vain Rover
Did ever discover
The joys of a Lover
Depriv’d and restor’d;
So matchless a Treasure,
Recover’d with Pleasure,
Yields Joys out of Measure,
Is almost ador’d.
No, &c.
APOLLO.
Without those happy arts, that I’ve invented,
The sullen World wou’d languish;
No pleasant Strains wou’d cheer the wakeful Shepherd
A Croud of Ills invading
Without relief wou’d torture wretched Mankind.
The Gods themselves at their Ambrosia’l Banquets,
Wou’d loose their greatest Pleasure
Ye beauteous Nymphs, and tuneful Swains,
And all ye learn’d Harmonious Race,
That Sing on Albions FLoery Plains,
Or her politer Cities Grace,
The Blessings, that ye enjoy, ye ow
To Brunswick’s Virtues, whence they flow.
BRITANNIA.
A brave and Virtuous Monarch,
Is sure the greatest Blessing
The Gods can give the any fav’rite Nation,
Virtue tho’ heavenly-fair derives a Lustre
From Majesty. The Subject
In Compliance at first may seem t’ admire her,
Till by her Conversation
Grown Conscious of her Native Charms adores her.
Grateful Brittons, Love repaying,
Strive to spread abroad His Fame,
Teach your Infants World essaying,
How to Lisp His Sacred Name.
Tell Your Youth when undertaking
First to make themselves compleat
His Example imitating
They must be both good and great.
MARS.
Thrice happy is that Nation
Whose Prince admireth Peace, but yet is Skilful
And brave in War. No sudden Fear disturbeth
Their sweet repose. If any Foe invades them
Their Sovereigns Martial Knowledge
And Courage leads them confident to Conquest.
Brittons from the Field retiring
After Wonders done in Arms,
Still to Conquests new aspiring,
Next engage with Beauties Charms,
Evermore Victorious prove,
Only when ye yield to Love.
Britons, &c.
HIBERNIA.
If equal Love, and Loyalty, and Virtue
Were equally rewarded,
I too might hope sometime t’ enjoy that Influence
Of Majesty, that renders
Britannia now so happy
And ads so vastly to her ancient Glory.
Blooming Gardens, verdant Meads,
All your vernal Tribute bring;
Rosy Bow’rs and Silvian Shades
Beateous Liv’ry of the Spring;
Spread your various Sweets around him,
With your choicest Chaplets Crown Him.
II
Nature of thy choicest Store
Give Him all that he desires;
Fortune need to add no more,
Only what His Worth requires-
Queen of Charms divine bestow him,
All the Reason can allow him.
CHORUS.
Come al y’immortal Tuneful Train,
And all ye truly inspired Men,
Joyn all your Loftiest sweetest Lays,
The Hero of this Day to praise.
Ten-thousand Echoes catch Each Sound,
And tell them unto winged Fame
She’ll carry them the World around
And eternize his glorious Name.
FINIS.
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