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Article POETRY. Page 1 of 1 Article A MINSTREL's SONG. Page 1 of 1
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Poetry.
POETRY *
ODE tOU HIS MAJESTY ' S BIRTH-DAY" . BY HENRY JAMES PYE , ESQ . POliT I-AURIiAT . Set to . Musk by Sir W . Parsons , M-is . D .
Awn ILE the frowjiin . T Lord of Arms Shall yield to gentler pow ' rs the plain ; Lq ! Britamgreetsthe milder charms Of Cyt herea's reign . Mute is the trumpet's brazen throat , And the sweet flute ' s melodious note Floats on the soft ambrosial gale ;
The sportive Loves and Graces rourd , Beating with jocund steps the ground . The auspicious ' Nupnals hail ! The Muses cease ro weave the wreath of war , fut . hang their roseate flow ' rs on Hymen's goldeii car ! When o ' er Creation ' s blotted face Drear N ight her sable banner rears ,
And veils fair Nature ' s vernal grace , Encircled round by doubts and fears , Thro' darksome mistsandchillingdews His path the wanderer ' s toot pursues , Till , shining clear in orient skies , [> i ? e . He views the star of Venus And joys ! o see the genial pow' . r
, Bright harbinger of morning's hour ! Au-J now a flood of radiance streams [ ing beams , From voting Aurora ' s blush-Till rob'd in gorgeous stale , the orb of day Spreads o ' er -. he laughing earth his full re-- fulgent ray ! Blest be tire omen— -Royal Pair ! ¦
O may the Hymeneal rite , That joins the valiant and the fair , _ Slridon the nations round its placid light ! Ker fertile plain , tho' Albion see , JTrom savage devastation free , Tho' with triumphant sail she reign [ main , Sole empress on the subject
She longs to bid the thunders sieep Which shake the regions of the deep , That crowding nations f , j r and wide , [ ent tide . Borne peaceful o'er the air . bi-May share the blessings that endear the day Which gave a patriot King a patriot race to sway . YOL . VIII .
A Minstrel's Song.
A MINSTREL's SOm .
-Occastecd by the Massacre nice WtJsJi Saras by IJv . LJl Trinsla ' . eif-om . the Welsh Tongue , Bt E . S . J . Ati'THOP . OFV / rr . LfA-. t A . VP 6 . -CJC . E . V .
DOWN Snow-don ' s shaggy sides they come , Hark ! the dread instruments of war ! In ' gouts of blocd the heroes blo & m— - Hark . ' I hear them from afar . Y ' on hoary bard , with'haggard eves , Look , maddingon theblood-drunk earth , Where many a Cambrian hero lies , And bites the ground in pangs of death . What bIod is that thy ?
.. upon spear 'Tis not a wolf's , that ' weeps so drear- — On Cambrian ' s ' breast Thy foot did rest , . Thy hands did suckling infants tear . O Edward ! Edward ! drench'd in gore , Black fates prepare a bed for thee ; Al ! dreadful dure , all parch'd and frore , Thy horse ' s hoofs weep blood on me .
The wailing ghosts of bards in death Hang on yon low ' ring crimson cloud . And . shrieks of anguish fill the heath , Where heav'nty music sung aloud—Hark ! nark ! they come ! the heroes come * All brindled forth , with bloody doom ; Besprent all o ' er . With virgin's gore , Whose tearful fathers weep in gloom .
Ah , me ! what sigh was that which came i A virgin ravish'd on the ground ! The frantic parent , old and lame , Bestrews with hair the rocks around . What , ho ! dire Edward , stop HIT crime ! . Far other pangs shall hell prepare ! To purge thy sin no fixed time , Eternal pains in hell thou'lt bear : Whileghosts ofbards , upon the wing , In jovial mood shall round thee sing , From Horns so high , While thou shalt lie ,
They'll smile losee thy torments sting . Bloody bloodhounds , stop your pace ! O ! wash your spears from hallow'd gore J Nor sacrilegious" tramp the face That shone Sebright on man before . I heard no more where I did lay , But , waking , staried from the earth ; While bloody Edward held his way ,
And shrieks proclaim'd his pare ot death . While fates around did flap the wing , The dire forboding song did sing , For minstrels slain , Thy deathless pain , While dreams of horror nig htly sting . 3 *
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
POETRY *
ODE tOU HIS MAJESTY ' S BIRTH-DAY" . BY HENRY JAMES PYE , ESQ . POliT I-AURIiAT . Set to . Musk by Sir W . Parsons , M-is . D .
Awn ILE the frowjiin . T Lord of Arms Shall yield to gentler pow ' rs the plain ; Lq ! Britamgreetsthe milder charms Of Cyt herea's reign . Mute is the trumpet's brazen throat , And the sweet flute ' s melodious note Floats on the soft ambrosial gale ;
The sportive Loves and Graces rourd , Beating with jocund steps the ground . The auspicious ' Nupnals hail ! The Muses cease ro weave the wreath of war , fut . hang their roseate flow ' rs on Hymen's goldeii car ! When o ' er Creation ' s blotted face Drear N ight her sable banner rears ,
And veils fair Nature ' s vernal grace , Encircled round by doubts and fears , Thro' darksome mistsandchillingdews His path the wanderer ' s toot pursues , Till , shining clear in orient skies , [> i ? e . He views the star of Venus And joys ! o see the genial pow' . r
, Bright harbinger of morning's hour ! Au-J now a flood of radiance streams [ ing beams , From voting Aurora ' s blush-Till rob'd in gorgeous stale , the orb of day Spreads o ' er -. he laughing earth his full re-- fulgent ray ! Blest be tire omen— -Royal Pair ! ¦
O may the Hymeneal rite , That joins the valiant and the fair , _ Slridon the nations round its placid light ! Ker fertile plain , tho' Albion see , JTrom savage devastation free , Tho' with triumphant sail she reign [ main , Sole empress on the subject
She longs to bid the thunders sieep Which shake the regions of the deep , That crowding nations f , j r and wide , [ ent tide . Borne peaceful o'er the air . bi-May share the blessings that endear the day Which gave a patriot King a patriot race to sway . YOL . VIII .
A Minstrel's Song.
A MINSTREL's SOm .
-Occastecd by the Massacre nice WtJsJi Saras by IJv . LJl Trinsla ' . eif-om . the Welsh Tongue , Bt E . S . J . Ati'THOP . OFV / rr . LfA-. t A . VP 6 . -CJC . E . V .
DOWN Snow-don ' s shaggy sides they come , Hark ! the dread instruments of war ! In ' gouts of blocd the heroes blo & m— - Hark . ' I hear them from afar . Y ' on hoary bard , with'haggard eves , Look , maddingon theblood-drunk earth , Where many a Cambrian hero lies , And bites the ground in pangs of death . What bIod is that thy ?
.. upon spear 'Tis not a wolf's , that ' weeps so drear- — On Cambrian ' s ' breast Thy foot did rest , . Thy hands did suckling infants tear . O Edward ! Edward ! drench'd in gore , Black fates prepare a bed for thee ; Al ! dreadful dure , all parch'd and frore , Thy horse ' s hoofs weep blood on me .
The wailing ghosts of bards in death Hang on yon low ' ring crimson cloud . And . shrieks of anguish fill the heath , Where heav'nty music sung aloud—Hark ! nark ! they come ! the heroes come * All brindled forth , with bloody doom ; Besprent all o ' er . With virgin's gore , Whose tearful fathers weep in gloom .
Ah , me ! what sigh was that which came i A virgin ravish'd on the ground ! The frantic parent , old and lame , Bestrews with hair the rocks around . What , ho ! dire Edward , stop HIT crime ! . Far other pangs shall hell prepare ! To purge thy sin no fixed time , Eternal pains in hell thou'lt bear : Whileghosts ofbards , upon the wing , In jovial mood shall round thee sing , From Horns so high , While thou shalt lie ,
They'll smile losee thy torments sting . Bloody bloodhounds , stop your pace ! O ! wash your spears from hallow'd gore J Nor sacrilegious" tramp the face That shone Sebright on man before . I heard no more where I did lay , But , waking , staried from the earth ; While bloody Edward held his way ,
And shrieks proclaim'd his pare ot death . While fates around did flap the wing , The dire forboding song did sing , For minstrels slain , Thy deathless pain , While dreams of horror nig htly sting . 3 *