[ 6 ]
The Britiſh Hero; or, Death of Gen. Wolfe
R E C I T A T I V E.
O’Er Quebec’s plain, where Gallia’s forcesſpread
To many warlike chiefs the deſtin’d bed,
When Wolf appear’d all glorious to behold.
His bands connected, reſolute, and bold;
The clanging inſtruments awake the woods,
And founds reſponſive tremulate the floods;
The burniſh’d arms attract the ſolar rays.
And glitt’ring terror o’er the field diſplays.
When thus brave Wolfe addreſt his warlike train,
While on the Gallic lands lie look’d diſtdain.
AIR.
Think, think, my brave friends,
On your valour depends,
Your country’s glory and good,
No mean thoughts of gain
In your breaſt entertain,
Be lucrative motives withſtood.
Let honour inſpire,
For honour give fire,
For honour high brandſih the blade;
Be virtue your cauſe,
And honour your laws,
Your toils will by Heav’n be repaid.
R E C I T A T I V E.
Now carnage by horror ſhews her face,
And unrelenting death encress'd his pace,
Drums, trumpets, cannons in confuſion roar,
