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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472316" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - A Solemn Dirge</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HER LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS<br>THE PRINCESS DOWAGER OF WALES.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">AIR -- TRIO.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,<br>And waken every note of woe;<br>When truth and virtue reach the skies,<br>'Tis ours to weep the want below!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">CHORUS.<br>When truth and virtue, etc. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">MAN SPEAKER.<br>The praise attending pomp and power,<br>The incense given to kings,<br>Are but the trappings of an hour --<br>Mere transitory things!<br>The base bestow them: but the good agree <br>To spurn the venal gifts as flattery.<br>But when to pomp and power are join'd<br>An equal dignity of mind --<br>When titles are the smallest claim --<br>When wealth and rank and noble blood, <br>But aid the power of doing good --<br>Then all their trophies last; and flattery turns to fame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bless'd spirit thou, whose fame, just born to bloom<br>Shall spread and flourish from the tomb,<br>How hast thou left mankind for heaven! <br>Even now reproach and faction mourn.<br>And, wondering how their rage was borne,<br>Request to be forgiven.<br>Alas! they never had thy hate:<br>Unmov'd in conscious rectitude, <br>Thy towering mind self-centred stood,<br>Nor wanted man's opinion to be great.<br>In vain, to charm thy ravish'd sight,<br>A thousand gifts would fortune send;<br>In vain, to drive thee from the right, <br>A thousand sorrows urg'd thy end:<br>Like some well-fashion'd arch thy patience stood,<br>And purchas'd strength from its increasing load.<br>Pain met thee like a friend that set thee free;<br>Affliction still is virtue's opportunity! <br>Virtue, on herself relying,<br>Ev'ry passion hush'd to rest,<br>Loses ev'ry pain of dying<br>In the hopes of being blest.<br>Ev'ry added pang she suffers <br>Some increasing good bestows,<br>Ev'ry shock that malice offers<br>Only rocks her to repose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">SONG. BY A MAN -- AFFETTUOSO.<br>Virtue, on herself relying,<br>Ev'ry passion hush'd to rest, <br>Loses ev'ry pain of dying<br>In the hopes of being blest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ev'ry added pang she suffers<br>Some increasing good bestows,<br>Ev'ry shock that malice offers, <br>Only rocks her to repose.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">WOMAN SPEAKER.<br>Yet, ah! what terrors frowned upon her fate --<br>Death, with its formidable band,<br>Fever and pain and pale consumptive care,<br>Determin'd took their stand: <br>Nor did the cruel ravagers design<br>To finish all their efforts at a blow;<br>But, mischievously slow,<br>They robb'd the relic and defac'd the shrine.<br>With unavailing grief, <br>Despairing of relief,<br>Her weeping children round<br>Beheld each hour<br>Death's growing power,<br>And trembled as he frown'd. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As helpless friends who view from shore<br>The labouring ship, and hear the tempest roar,<br>While winds and waves their wishes cross --<br>They stood, while hope and comfort fail,<br>Not to assist, but to bewail <br>The inevitable loss.<br>Relentless tyrant, at thy call<br>How do the good, the virtuous fall!<br>Truth, beauty, worth, and all that most engage,<br>But wake thy vengeance and provoke thy rage. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">SONG. BY A MAN. -- BASSO. -- STACCATO. -- SPIRITOSO.<br>When vice my dart and scythe supply,<br>How great a king of terrors I!<br>If folly, fraud, your hearts engage,<br>Tremble, ye mortals, at my rage!<br>Fall, round me fall, ye little things, <br>Ye statesmen, warriors, poets, kings;<br>If virtue fail her counsel sage,<br>Tremble, ye mortals, at my rage!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">MAN SPEAKER.<br>Yet let that wisdom, urged by her example,<br>Teach us to estimate what all must suffer; <br>Let us prize death as the best gift of nature --<br>As a safe inn, where weary travellers,<br>When they have journeyed through a world of cares,<br>May put off life and be at rest for ever.<br>Groans, weeping friends, indeed, and gloomy sables,<br>May oft distract us with their sad solemnity: <br>The preparation is the executioner.<br>Death, when unmasked, shows me a friendly face,<br>And is a terror only at a distance;<br>For as the line of life conducts me on <br>To Death's great court, the prospect seems more fair.<br>'Tis Nature's kind retreat, that's always open<br>To take us in when we have drained the cup<br>Of life, or worn our days to wretchedness.<br>In that secure, serene retreat, <br>Where all the humble, all the great,<br>Promiscuously recline;<br>Where wildly huddled to the eye,<br>The beggar's pouch and prince's purple lie,<br>May every bliss be thine. <br>And ah! bless'd spirit, wheresoe'er thy flight,<br>Through rolling worlds, or fields of liquid light,<br>May cherubs welcome their expected guest;<br>May saints with songs receive thee to their rest;<br>May peace that claimed while here thy warmest love,<br>May blissful endless peace be thine above! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">SONG. BY A WOMAN. -- AMOROSO.<br>Lovely, lasting Peace below,<br>Comforter of every woe,<br>Heav'nly born, and bred on high,<br>To crown the favourites of the sky -- <br>Lovely, lasting Peace, appear;<br>This world itself, if thou art here,<br>Is once again with Eden blest,<br>And man contains it in his breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">WOMAN SPEAKER.<br>Our vows are heard! Long, long to mortal eyes,<br>Her soul was fitting to its kindred skies: <br>Celestial-like her bounty fell,<br>Where modest want and patient sorrow dwell;<br>Want pass'd for merit at her door,<br>Unseen the modest were supplied, <br>Her constant pity fed the poor --<br>Then only poor, indeed, the day she died.<br>And oh! for this! while sculpture decks thy shrine,<br>And art exhausts profusion round,<br>The tribute of a tear be mine, <br>A simple song, a sigh profound.<br>There Faith shall come, a pilgrim gray,<br>To bless the tomb that wraps thy clay;<br>And calm Religion shall repair<br>To dwell a weeping hermit there. <br>Truth, Fortitude, and Friendship shall agree<br>To blend their virtues while they think of thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">AIR. CHORUS. -- POMPOSO.<br>Let us, let all the world agree,<br>To profit by resembling thee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Goldsmith">Oliver Goldsmith</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=472316" data-title="Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - A Solemn Dirge de Oliver Goldsmith" data-description="SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF HER LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS
THE PRINCESS DOWAGER OF WALES.

AIR -- TRIO.

ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,
And waken every note of woe;
When truth and virtue reach the skies,
'Tis ours to weep the want below!

CHORUS.
When truth..."></div>
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