HE Opera firft Italian mafters taught,

THE

Enrich'd with fongs,but innocent of thought

Britannia's learned theatre difdains

Melodious trifles, and enervate strains;
And blushes on her injur'd stage to fee
Nonfenfe well-tun'd, and sweet stupidity.
No charms are wanting to thy artful fong,
Soft as Corelli, but as Virgil strong.

From words fo fweet new grace the notes receive,
And mufic borrows helps, fhe us'd to give.

Thy stile hath match'd what ancient Romans knew, -
Thy flowing numbers far excel the new;
B 2

Their

Their cadence in fuch easy found convey'd,
That height of thought may feem fuperfluous aid;
Yet in fuch charms the noble thoughts abound,
That needlefs feem the fweets of eafy found.

Landskips how gay the bow'ry grotto yields,
Which thought creates, and lavish fancy builds!
What art can trace the vifionary scenes,
The flow'ry groves, and everlasting greens,
The babling founds that mimic echo plays,
The fairy fhade, and its eternal maze,
Nature and art in all their charms combin'd,
And all Elyfium to one view confin'd!
No farther could imagination roam,

'Till Vanbrugh fram'd, and Marlbro' rais'd the dome.
Ten thoufand pangs my anxious bofom tear,
When drown'd in tears I fee th' imploring fair:
When bards lefs foft the moving words fupply,
A feeming justice dooms the nymph to die;
But here he begs, nor can fhe beg in vain,
(In dirges thus expiring fwans complain)
Each verse so fwells, expreffive of her woes,
And ev'ry tear in lines fo mournful flows;
We, spite of fame, her fate revers'd believe,
O'erlook her crimes, and think fhe ought to live.
Let joy tranfport fair Rofamonda's fhade,

And wreaths of myrtle crown the lovely maid.
While now perhaps with Dido's ghost she roves,
And hears and tells the story of their loves,
Alike they mourn, alike they bless their fate,
Since love, which made 'em wretched, makes 'em

great,

Nor

Nor longer that relentless doom bemoan,
Which gain'd a Virgil, and an Addison.

Accept, great monarch of the British lays,
The tribute fong an humble subject pays.
So tries the artlefs lark her early flight,
And foars, to hail the God of verfe and light.
Unrival'd as thy merit be thy fame,

And thy own laurels fhade thy envy'd name:
Thy name, the boaft of all the tuneful choir.
Shall tremble on the ftrings of ev'ry lyre;
While the charm'd reader with thy thought
complies;

Feels corresponding joys or forrows rife,
And views thy Rofamond with Henry's eyes.

Dramatis Perfonæ.

MEN.

King Henry.

Sir Trufty, keeper of the bower.

Page.

Meffenger.

WOMEN.

Queen Elinor.

Rofamond.

Gridiline, wife to Sir Trufty.

Guardian Angels, &c.

SCENE Woodstock-Park.

ROSA

ROSAMON D.

A CT Í. SCENE I.

A Prospect of Woodstock-Park, terminating

in the Bower.

Enter QUEEN and PAGE.

QUEEN.

HAT place is here! What scenes appear! Where-e'er I turn my eyes, All around

Enchanted ground

And foft Elyfums rise:

Flow'ry mountains,

Moffy fountains,

Shady woods,

Crystal floods,

With wild variety furprise.

As o'er the hollow vaults we walk,*

A hundred echos round us talk:

• Alluding to the famous echo in Woodfock-Park.