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DIALOGUE

FROM THE FRENCH OF

MONSIEUR DE LA MOTT E.

POET. NO, Love-I ne'er will love again;
Thy tyrant empire I abjure;

My weary heart refolves to cure

Its wounds, and ease the raging pain.

LOVE. Fool! canft thou fly my happy reign?
Iris recalls thee to her arins.

POET. She's falfe-I hate her perjur'd charms;
No, Love-I ne'er will love again.

LOVE. But know for thee I've toil❜d to gain

Daphné, the bright, the reigning toast.
POET. Daphné but common eyes can boast;
No, Love-I ne'er will love again.

LOVE. She who before scorn'd every swain,

Dircé, shall for one figh be thine.
POIT. Age makes her rays too faintly shine;
No, Love-I ne'er will love again.

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LOVE.

L'AM. Mais fi je t'aidois à charmer

La jeune, la brillante Flore.—
Tu rougis—vas-tu dire encore,
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.

Le P. Non, Dieu charmant, daigne former
Pour nous une chaine eternelle ;

Mais pour tout ce qui n'eft point elle,
Amour, je ne veux plus aimer.

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Lovs

Love. But fhould I give thee charms t'obtain
Flora, the young, the bright, the gay!
I fee thee blush-now, rebel, fay,

No, Love-I ne'er will love again.

POET. No, charming God, prepare a chain
Eternal for that fair and me!

Yet ftill know every fair but she,
I've vow'd I ne'er will love again.

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VENUS AND ADONIS,

A CAN TАТА.

SET BY MR. HANDEL.

RECITATIVE.

BEHOLD where weeping Venus ftands!

What more than mortal grief can move
The bright, th' immortal Queen of Love?
She beats her breaft, fhe wrings her hands;
And hark, fhe mourns, but mourns in vain,
Her beauteous, lov'd Adonis, flain.

The hills and woods her loss deplore;
The Naiads hear, and flock around;

And Echo fighs, with mimick found,

Adonis is no more!

Again the goddess raves, and tears her hair;
Then vents her grief, her love, and her despair.

AIR.

Dear Adonis, beauty's treasure,

Now my forrow, once my pleasure;

O return to Venus' arms!

Venus never will forfake thee;
Let the voice of Love o'ertake thee,

And revive thy drooping charms.

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RECITATIVE.

Thus, Queen of Beauty, as the poets feign,
While thou didst call the lovely fwain;

Transform'd by heavenly power,

The lovely fwain arofe a flower,

And, fmiling, grac'd the plain.

And now he blooms, and now he fades;
Venus and gloomy Proferpine

Alternate claim his charms divine;

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By turns reftor'd to light, by turns he seeks the fhades.

AIR.

Transporting joy,

Tormenting fears,

Reviving fmiles,
Succeeding tears,

Are Cupid's various train.
The tyrant boy
Prepares his darts,

With foothing wiles,

With cruel arts,

And pleasure blends with pain.

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CANTATA.

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