And in dejected State
Thus moans her hapless Fate;
Ah wretched me, must Cæsar for my sake,
These fatal dangers undertake.
No, no, ye awful Powers, no, no,
Fate must some meaner force Employ.
Fate must not let him go;
But Glory cryes go on;
On, on, Illustrious Man;
Leave not the Work undone,
Thou hast so well begun.
Go on, great Prince go on.
Chorus. See, See, all Europe bend their eyes
On thy great enterprize:
Advance thy dazling Shield,
And hast then to the Field;
Hast, hast, to Honour and Renown,
Honour, that on a Heroe's brow shines brighter than a Crown.
Chorus of All.
Exalt, exalt, your Voices high,
And with your skilful melody:
Raise Gloriana's grief to Joy:
Bring warbling Lutes to hush her Cares,
Bring moving Flutes to Charm her ears.
Ah! may their softning Influence
Each passion Calm, please every sence:
And never, never, let her Mourn;
Great Cæsar's Absence short will be, and Glorious His Return.
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