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MADRIGAL for Three Voices.

J. WILBYE.-1609. As fair as morn, as fresh as May,

A pretty grace, in saying nay ;
Smilst thou ? my dear! then sing a say,

Fal la la la, fal la la la.
But, oh! that love enchanting eye,
Lo! here my doubtful doom I try.

GLEE for Four Voices.

J. Hook.

Arise, my fair one! and receive
All the pleasures love can give,
Hark! the birds on ev'ry thorn,
Sweetly usher in the morn.

MADRIGAL for Five Voices.

W. Beale.Gained the Prize Cup, 1813. Awake! sweet muse! the breathing spring; With rapture warms, awake, and sing ! Awake! and join the vocal throng, Who hail the morning with a song. To Phillis raise the cheerful lay, O, bid ber haste! and come away ; In sweetest smile herself adorn, And add new graces to the morn.

Burns.

GLEE for Four Voices.

R. J. S. Stevens.
Blow, blow, thou winter-wind,
Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude ;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh ho ! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly;
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly :

Then heigh ho! the holly,
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot :
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remember'd not.
Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green bolly,
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly :

Then heigh ho! the holly,
This life is most jolly.

Shakspeare.

GLEE for Six Voices.

J. M. HARRIS. Blow, bļow, Boreas! blow: and let the surly winds

Make the billows foam and roar;
Thou canst no terrors raise in valiant minds,

But spite of thee we hope to reach the shore.

ODE for Five Voices.

J. S. SMITH.—Medal, 1775 Blest pair of sirens, pledges of heav'n's joy,

Sphere-born harmonious sisters, Voice and Verse, Wed your divine sounds, and mix'd pow'r employ,

Dead things, with inbreath'd sense, able to pierce ; And, to our high rais'd phantasy, present That undisturbed song of pure consent, As sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne, To him that sits thereon,

With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee'; Where the bright seraphim, in burning row, Their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow, And the cherubic host in thousand quires, Touch their immortal harps of golden wires, With those just spirits, that wear victorious palms, Hymns devout, and holy psalms

Singing everlastingly: That we on earth, with undiscording voice, May rightly answer that melodious noise, As once we did ; till disproportioned sin Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din Broke the fair music that all creatures made To their great lord, whose love their motion sway'd In perfect diapason ; while they stood In first obedience, and their state of good. 0! may we soon again renew that song, And keep in tune with heav'n, till God, ere long, To his celestial concert us unite, To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light.

Milton.

GLEE for Four Voices.

R. J. S. STEVENS. Belinda, see, from yonder flow'rs

The bee flies loaded to his cell; Can you perceive what it devours ?

Are they impair'd in shew or smell ?

So, tho' I rob you of a kiss

Sweeter than their ambrosial dew; Why are you angry at my bliss ?

Has it at all impoverish'd you ?

Addison.

GLEE for Three Voices.

Dr. CALLCOTT. Blow, warder! blow thy sounding horn,

And thy banner wave on high ;
For the Christians have fought in the holy land,

And have won the victory.
Loud the warder blew his horn,
And his banner wav'd on high ;

Let the mass be sung,

And the bells be rung,
And the feast eat merrily.
The warder look'd from the tower on high,

As far as he could see,
I see a bold knight, and by his red cross,

He comes from the east country,
Then loud the warder blew his horn,

And call'd till he was hoarse,

I see a bold knight,

And on his shield bright,
He beareth a flaming cross.
Then down the lord of the castle came,

The red cross knight to meet,
And when the red cross knight he espied

Right loving he did him greet.
Thou’rt welcome here, dear red cross knight,
For thy fame's well known to me,

And the mass shall be sung,

And the bells shall be rung,
And we'll feast right merrily.
Oh! I am come from the holy land,

Where saints did live and die;
Behold the device I bear on my shield,

The red cross knight am I:
And we have fought, in the holy land,
And we've won the victory :

For with valiant might,

Did the Christians fight,
And made the proud Pagans fly:
Thou'rt welcome here, dear red cross knight,

Come lay thy armour by,
And for the good tidings thou dost bring,

We'll feast us merrily.
For all in my castle shall rejoice,
That we've won the victory;

And the mass shall be sung,

And the bells shall be rung, And the feast eat merrily.

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