ACT II.

CONCERTANTE.

Pleyel.

Messrs. JACKSON, MARSHALL, WOODCOCK, REINAGLE, HALDON, and FELDON.

DUETT. Master SPENCE and Mr. HALDON.

Vicary.

Rejoice in the LORD, O ye righteous: for it becometh well the just to be thankful.

I'll sing the song you lov'd to hear,
Warbled each morn a-near your bed;

And if I fail to charm your ear,

I'll breathe sincerest vows instead.

ANTHEM. Masters SPENCE and TIDMAN.

Greene.

Like as the hart desireth the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O GOD.

My soul is athirst for GOD, yea, even for the living GoD: When shall I come to appear before the presence of GOD?

My God, my soul is vexed within me, therefore will I remember thee.

I will say unto the GoD of my strength, Why hast thou forgotten me?

O send out thy light and thy truth, that they may lead me, and bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy dwelling.

And that I may go unto the altar of God, even unto the GOD of my joy and gladness.

GRAND CONCERTO, 2d.

Corelli.

NINETEENTH CONCERT,

MONDAY, MAY 30, 1803.

ACT I.

OVERTURE, Artaxerxes.

SONG. Miss HAINES.

'Tis liberty, dear liberty alone,

That gives fresh beauty to the sun;

That makes all nature look more gay,
And lovely life with pleasure steal away.

Arne.

Handel.

GLEE. Masters TIDMAN and SPENCE, and

Messrs. HALDON and LIDDELL.

Since first I saw your face I resolv'd

To honour and renown ye;

If now I be disdain'd, I wish

My heart had never known ye.

Ford.

What! I that lov'd, and you that lik'd,
Shall we begin to wrangle?
No, no, no, my heart is fast,
And cannot disentangle.

GRAND CONCERTO.

SONG. Master TIDMAN.

Corelli.

Handel.

(Accompanied on the Violoncello by Mr. REINAGLE.)

What passion cannot music raise and quell?
When Jubal struck the chorded shell
His list'ning brethren stood around,

And, wond'ring, on their faces fell
To worship the celestial sound.

Less than a God they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell,

That spoke so sweetly, and so well.

SIMPHONY.

Bach.

SIMPHONY

ACT II.

Haydn.

SONG. Miss HAINES.

When first you courted me I own

I fondly favour'd you,

Apparent worth and high renown

Made me believe you true-Donald.
Each virtue then seem'd to adorn
The man esteem'd by me;

Urbani.

But now the mask's thrown off, I scorn
To waste one thought on thee-Donald.

O then for ever haste away,

Away from love and me;

Go seek a heart that's like your own,
And come no more to me-Donald.

For I'll reserve myself alone

For one that's more like me;

If such a one I cannot find,

I'll fly from love and thee-Donald.

4th OBOE CONCERTO.

R

Handel.