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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457115" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Cantata. Set By Mons. Galliard</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Recit.<br>Beneath a verdant laurel's ample shade<br>His lyre to mournful numbers strung,<br>Horace, immortal bard supinely laid, <br>To Venus thus address'd the song;<br>Ten thousand little loves around,<br>Listening dwelt on every sound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ariet.<br>Potent Venus, bid thy son<br>Sound no more his dire alarms:<br>Youth on silent wings is flown;<br>Graver years come rolling on,<br>Spare my age unfit for arms:<br>Safe and humble let me rest,<br>From all amorous care released.<br>Potent Venus, bid thy son<br>Sound no more his dire alarms.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Recit.<br>Yet, Venus, why do I each morn prepare<br>The fragrant wreath for Cloe's hair?<br>Why, why do I all day lament and sigh,<br>Unless the beauteous maid be nigh?<br>And why all night pursue her in my dreams<br>Through flowery meads and crystal streams?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Recit.<br>Thus sung the bard, and thus the goddess spoke:<br>Submissive bow to Love's imperious yoke;<br>Every state and every age<br>Shall own my rule and fear my rage:<br>Compell'd by me, thy Muse shall prove<br>That all the world was born to love.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ariet.<br>Bid thy destined lyre discover<br>Soft desire and gentle pain:<br>Often praise, and always love her;<br>Through her ear her heart obtain.<br>Verse shall please and sight shall move her,<br>Cupid does with Phoebus reign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457115" data-title="Cantata. Set By Mons. Galliard de Matthew Prior" data-description="Recit.
Beneath a verdant laurel's ample shade
His lyre to mournful numbers strung,
Horace, immortal bard supinely laid, 
To Venus thus address'd the song;
Ten thousand little loves around,
Listening dwelt on every sound.

Ariet.
Potent Venus, bid ..."></div>
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