Hence ye fecret damps of care,

Fierce disdain, and cold despair.
Hence ye fears and doubts remove;
Hence grief and hate!
Ye pains that wait

On jealousy, the rage of love.

My Henry shall be mine alone,
The hero shall be all my own;
Nobler joys posless my heart,

Than crowns and Scepterscan impart.

ACT

ACT III.

SCENE Ι.

SCENE a grotto, HENRY asleep, a cloud de

scends, in it two angels suppos'd to be the guardian Spirits of the British Kings in war and in peace.

B

ANGEL.

EHOLD the unhappy monarch there,

That claims our tutelary care!

2ANGE L.

In fields of death around his head

A shield of adamant I spread.

1 ANGEL.

In hours of peace, unseen, unknown,

I hover o'er the British throne.

2 ANGEL.

When hosts of foes with foes engage,
And round th' anointed hero rage,

The cleaving faulchion I misguide, j
And turn the feather'd shaft afide.

ANGEL

When dark fermenting factions swell,
And prompt th' ambitious to rebel,
A thousand terrors I impart,
And damp the furious traitor's heart.

:

BOTH. BOTH.

But oh what influence can remove

The pangs of grief, and rage of love!

2 ANGEL.

I'll fire his foul with mighty themes,

'Till love before ambition fly.
1ANGE L.

I'll footh his cares in pleasing dreams,

'Till grief in joyful raptures die.

2 ANGEL.

Whatever glorious and renown'd
On British annals can be found.
Whatever actions shall adorn
• Britannia's heroes, yet unborn,
In dreadful vifions saalt succeed;
On fancy'd fields the Gaul fhall bleed,
Cressy shall stand before bis eyes,
And Agincourt, and Blenheim rife.
ANGEL.

See, see, he smiles amidst his trance,
And shakes a visionary lance,

His brain is fill'd with loud alarms
Shouting armies, clashing arms,
The softer prints of love deface;
And trumpets found in ev'ry trace,

Glory strives!

ROTH

The field is won !

Fame revives,

And love is gone.

D

AN IANGEL.

To calm thy grief, and lull thy cares,

Look up and fee

What after long revolving years,

Thy bower shall be!

When, time its beauties shall deface,

And only with its ruins grace,
The future profpect of the place.

Behold the glorious pile ascending!*
Columns swelling, arches bending,
Domes in awful pomp arifing,

Art in curious strokes surprising,
Foes in figur'd fights contending,
Behold the glorious pile afcending!

2 ANGEL.

He fees, he sees the great reward

For Anna's mighty chief prepar'd:

His growing joys no measure keep,

Too vehement and fierce her fleep,

ANGEL.

Let grief and love at once engage,

His beart is proof to all their pain;

Love may plead

2 ANGEL,

And grief may rage

}

BOTH.

But both fhall plead and rage in vain.

[The angels ascend, and the vision disappears

* Scene changes to the plan of Blenheim-castle.

HENRY,

HENRY, Starting from the couch.

Where have my ravish'd senses been!
What joys, what wonders, have I seen!
The scene yet stands before my eye,
A thousand glorious deeds that lie
In deep futurity obscure,
Tights and triumphs immature,
Heroes immers'd in time's dark womb,
Ripening for mighty years to come,
Break forth, and, to the day display'd,
My soft inglorious hours upbraid.
Transported with so bright a scheme,
My waking life appears a dream.
Adieu, ye wanton shades and bowers,
Wreaths of myrtle, beds of flowers,

Rofy brakes,

Silver lakes,

To love and you

A. long adieu!

O Rosamond! O rifing woe!

Why do my weeping eyes o'erflow?
O Rosamond! O fair distress'd,

How shall my heart, with grief oppress'd,
Its unrelenting purpose tell;

And take the long, the last farewel!
Rife, glory, rife in all thy charms,
Thy waving creft, and burnish'd arms,
Spread thy gilded banners round,
Make thy thundering courser bound,