The anniversary ode for the fourth of December, 1697 His Majesty's birth-day another for New-Year's-Day, 1697/8 : both set to musick and perform'd at Kensington / the words by N. Tate ...
         Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.
      
       
         
           1698
        
      
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         A62840
         Wing T176
         ESTC R4833
         13471575
         ocm 13471575
         99699
         
           
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             The anniversary ode for the fourth of December, 1697 His Majesty's birth-day another for New-Year's-Day, 1697/8 : both set to musick and perform'd at Kensington / the words by N. Tate ...
             Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.
             Staggins, Nicholas, 1650?-1700.
          
           [4], 7 p.
           
             Printed for Richard Baldwin ...,
             London :
             1698.
          
           
             "Set to musick by Dr. Staggins", p. 1.
             Without the music.
             Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           William -- III, -- King of England, 1650-1702 -- Poetry.
        
      
    
     
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           THE
           Anniversary
           Ode
           FOR
           THE
           Fourth
           of
           DECEMBER
           ,
           1697.
           
           HIS
           Majesty's
           Birth-Day
           .
           Another
           for
           NEW-YEAR'S-DAY
           ,
           1697
           /
           8.
           
           Both
           Set
           to
           Musick
           ,
           and
           Perform'd
           At
           KENSINGTON
           .
        
         
           The
           Words
           by
           N.
           TATE
           Servant
           to
           His
           MAJESTY
           .
        
         
           LONDON
           :
           Printed
           for
           
             Richard
             Baldwin
          
           near
           the
           Oxford-Arms
           in
           Warwick-Lane
           .
           MDCXCVIII
           .
        
      
       
         
         
         
           TO
           THE
           READER
           .
        
         
           THE
           Glorious
           Occasion
           upon
           which
           these
           Odes
           were
           written
           ,
           viz.
           His
           Majesty's
           Birth-Day
           ,
           and
           the
           
             New
             Year
          
           ,
           accompanied
           with
           the
           Consummation
           of
           an
           Honourable
           PEACE
           ,
           requir'd
           the
           utmost
           Liberties
           of
           Poetry
           ;
           but
           I
           was
           Confin'd
           (
           for
           the
           Present
           )
           to
           such
           Measures
           and
           Compass
           as
           the
           Musical
           Performance
           would
           admit
           ;
           upon
           which
           Consideration
           the
           Reader
           's
           favourable
           allowance
           is
           requested
           ,
           by
        
         
           
             
               His
               Humble
               Servant
            
             ,
             N.
             T.
             
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
         
         
           THE
           ODE
           UPON
           His
           Majesty's
           Birth-Day
           .
        
         
           Set
           to
           Musick
           by
           Dr.
           STAGGINS
           .
        
         
           
             SUmmon
             to
             the
             chearful
             Plain
          
           
             The
             Graces
             and
             the
             Muses
             Train
             .
          
        
         
           
             They
             come
             ,
             they
             come
             ,
             in
             pompous
             Throng
             ,
          
           
             And
             ,
             as
             in
             State
             they
             march
             along
             ,
          
           
             This
             is
             the
             Burthen
             of
             their
             Song
             :
          
        
         
           
             Chorus
             .
          
           
             Virtue
             is
             at
             last
             Regarded
             ,
          
           
             And
             the
             Hero's
             Toils
             Rewarded
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             Hark
             how
             the
             Neighb'ring
             Nations
             round
          
           
             To
             
             Britain's
             Eccho'd
             Mirth
             resound
             !
          
           
             And
             various
             Languages
             employ
          
           
             To
             speak
             the
             Universal
             Joy.
             
          
        
         
           
             Let
             Winter
             Smile
             ,
             the
             Fields
             be
             Gay
             ,
          
           
             Woods
             and
             Vales
             in
             Confort
             Sing
             ,
          
           
             Flowing
             Tides
             their
             Tribute
             bring
          
           
             To
             Welcome
             Peace
             and
             
             Caesar's
             Day
             .
          
        
         
           
             The
             Trumpet
             's
             Sound
             and
             Cannon's
             Roar
             ,
          
           
             No
             longer
             are
             the
             Voice
             of
             War
             ;
          
           
             Yet
             both
             shall
             speak
             ,
             and
             both
             be
             heard
             as
             far
          
           
             In
             Triumph
             now
             as
             in
             Alarms
             before
             .
          
        
         
           
             In
             ancient
             Times
             of
             lawless
             Sway
             ,
          
           
             When
             Nations
             groaning
             lay
             ,
          
           
             Despairing
             all
             ,
             and
             all
             Forlorn
             ,
          
           
             Then
             was
             the
             Great
             ALCIDES
             Born.
             
          
        
         
           
             Such
             was
             
             Europe's
             late
             Distress
             ,
          
           
             When
             for
             the
             Suffering
             World's
             Repose
             ,
          
           
             With
             equal
             Courage
             and
             Success
             ,
          
           
             Our
             Second
             HERCULES
             arose
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             O
             Favour'd
             both
             of
             Earth
             and
             Heav'n
             !
          
           
             To
             Thee
             ,
             and
             only
             Thee
             ,
             't
             is
             giv'n
          
           
             
             Rome's
             first
             Caesars
             to
             out-do
             ;
          
           
             Our
             Iulius
             and
             Augustus
             too
             .
          
        
         
           
             War
             's
             dismal
             Scene
             is
             chang'd
             to
             Peace
             ,
          
           
             Yet
             shall
             not
             his
             Herculean
             Labours
             cease
             :
          
           
             Nobler
             Wars
             he
             now
             will
             wage
             ,
          
           
             Against
             Infernal
             Pow'rs
             engage
             ,
          
           
             And
             quell
             the
             Hydra-Vices
             of
             the
             Age.
             
          
        
         
           
             Grand
             CHORUS
             .
          
           
             So
             Glorious
             a
             Task
             does
             a
             Hero
             require
             ,
          
           
             Whom
             Valour
             and
             Virtue
             alike
             do
             Inspire
             :
          
           
             'T
             is
             a
             Triumph
             reserv'd
             for
             the
             Just
             and
             the
             Brave
             ,
          
           
             Who
             Fights
             to
             give
             Freedom
             ,
             and
             Conquers
             to
             Save
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .
        
      
       
         
         
         
           THE
           ODE
           FOR
           NEW-YEAR'S-DAY
           ,
           1697
           /
           8.
           
        
         
           Set
           to
           Musick
           by
           Dr.
           BLOW
           .
        
         
           
             MUsick
             now
             thy
             Charms
             display
             ,
          
           
             Let
             all
             thy
             Tuneful
             Sons
             appear
             ,
          
           
             To
             Entertain
             the
             Genial
             Day
             ,
          
           
             And
             kindly
             Treat
             the
             Infant-Year
             .
          
        
         
           
             Young
             as
             't
             is
             ,
             it
             brings
             along
          
           
             Blessings
             on
             its
             tender
             Wing
             ;
          
           
             Blessings
             to
             requite
             your
             Song
             ;
          
           
             Blessings
             that
             forestal
             the
             SPRING
             .
          
        
         
           
             Chorus
             .
          
           
             The
             promis'd
             Year
             is
             now
             arriv'd
             ,
          
           
             That
             has
             the
             Golden
             Age
             reviv'd
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             The
             Prize
             our
             daring
             Warrior
             sought
             ,
          
           
             Is
             now
             compleatly
             gain'd
             ;
          
           
             Not
             poorly
             Begg'd
             ,
             nor
             dearly
             Bought
             ,
          
           
             But
             Nobly
             ,
             in
             the
             Field
             ,
             obtain'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             PEACE
             her self
             could
             boast
             no
             Charms
          
           
             To
             draw
             our
             Hero
             from
             Alarms
             ,
          
           
             From
             glorious
             Danger
             —
             till
             she
             came
          
           
             In
             Honour's
             recommending
             Name
             ,
          
           
             And
             all
             the
             splendid
             Pomp
             of
             Fame
             .
          
        
         
           
             BELLONA
             else
             had
             still
             been
             heard
             ,
          
           
             Thundring
             through
             the
             listed
             Plain
             ;
          
           
             EUROPE
             still
             ,
             with
             restless
             Pain
             ,
          
           
             Had
             for
             her
             fearless
             Champion
             fear'd
             .
          
        
         
           
             Harrass'd
             Nations
             ,
             now
             at
             Rest
             ,
          
           
             Eccho
             to
             each
             other's
             Joy
             ,
          
           
             Their
             Breath
             in
             grateful
             Songs
             employ
             ,
          
           
             For
             him
             who
             has
             their
             Griefs
             Redrest
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               Chorus
               .
            
             ]
             What
             then
             should
             Happy
             Brittain
             do
             ?
          
           
             Blest
             with
             the
             Gift
             and
             Giver
             too
             .
          
        
         
           
           
             On
             Warlike
             Enterprizes
             bent
          
           
             To
             Foreign
             Fields
             the
             Hero
             went
             ;
          
           
             The
             Dreadful
             Part
             He
             there
             perform'd
          
           
             Of
             Battels
             Fought
             ,
             and
             Cities
             Storm'd
             :
          
           
             But
             now
             the
             Drum
             and
             Trumpet
             Cease
             ,
          
           
             And
             wish'd
             Success
             his
             Sword
             has
             Sheath'd
             ,
          
           
             To
             Us
             returns
             ,
             with
             Olive
             wreath'd
             ,
          
           
             To
             practice
             here
             the
             Milder
             Arts
             of
             PEACE
             .
          
        
         
           
             Grand
             CHORUS
             .
          
           
             Happy
             ,
             Happy
             ,
             past
             Expressing
             ,
          
           
             Britain
             ,
             if
             thou
             know'st
             thy
             Blessing
             ;
          
           
             Home-bred
             Discord
             ne'er
             Alarm
             Thee
             ,
          
           
             Other
             Mischief
             cannot
             Harm
             Thee
             .
          
           
             Happy
             ,
             if
             thou
             know'st
             thy
             Blessing
             .
          
           
             Happy
             ,
             Happy
             ,
             past
             Expressing
             .
          
        
         
           FINIS
           .