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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