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THE Philadelphia Songster. PART I. BEING A COLLECTION of CHOICE SONGS; SUCH AS ARE Calculated to please the EAR, WHILE THEY Improve the MIND, and make the HEART better.

By ABSALOM AIMWELL, ESQUIRE.

MUSIC the fiercest grief can charm,
And fate's severest rage disarm:
MUSIC can soften pain to ease,
And make despair and madness please.

PHILADELPHIA, Printed and to be sold by JOHN M'CULLOCH, in, Third-street, near the Market.—Jan. 1789.

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THE Philadelphia Songster.

I. God save America.

[...]God save America free from tyrannic sway till time shall [...] cease: hush'd be the din of arms and all proud wars alarms; [...] follow in all her charms, heaven born peace. [...]

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God save great WASHINGTON!
Fair Freedom's chosen son,
Born to command:
May every enemy
Far from his presence flee,
And be grim tyranny
Bound by his hand.
Thy name, O MONTGOMERY,
Still. in each heart shall be,
Prais'd in each breath:
Though on the fatal plain,
Thou wast untimely slain,
Yet shall thy virtues gain
Rescue from death.
Blest in our song shall be,
Guardian of LIBERTY,
LOUIS the King:
Terrible god of war,
Plac'd in triumphant car,
Of France and of Navarre,
LOUIS the King.
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II. A Catch, for three Voices.

[...]How great is the pleasure, how sweet the delight, [...] When soft love and music to—ge—ther u—nite. [...] How great, &c. [...] When love, soft love, and music u—nite. [...] Sweet, sweet, how sweet the delight, [...] When harmony, sweet harmony, and love unite.

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III. Rosy Morn,

[...]When the rosy morn appearing Paints with gold the ver­dant lawn; See content the humble gleaner, take the scatter'd ears that fall.

[...]Bees on banks of thy me disporting Sip the sweets and hail the dawn. Nature all children viewing kindly bounteous gives to all.

Warbling birds the day proclaiming,
Carol sweet the lively strain;
They forsake their leafy dwelling
To secure the golden grain.
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Chorus.
See content the humble gleaner,
Take the scatter'd ears that fall;
Nature all her children viewing,
Kindly bounteous gives to all.

IV. Rose Tree.

[...]A rose tree in full bearing, had sweet flowers fair to see [...] One rose beyond comparing for beauty attract—ed me: [...] Tho' eager once to win it, lovely blooming fresh and gay, [...] I find a canker in it, and now throw it far away.

How fine this morning early,
All sunshiny clear and bright;
So late I lov'd you dearly,
Though lost now each fond delight:
The clouds seem big with showers,
Sunny beams no more are seen;
Farewell ye fleeting hours,
Your falshood has chang'd the scene.
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V. Indian Chief.

[...]The sun sets in night, and the stars shun the day, [...] But glory remains while the light fades away. [...] Be—gin ye tormentors your threats are in vain, [...] For the son of Alknumok shall never complain.

Remember the arrow he shot from his bow,
Remember the chiefs by his hatchet laid low;
Why so slow? do you wait till I shrink from my pain?
Know, the son of Alknumok shall never complain.
Remember the woods where in ambush we lay,
The scalps that we bore from your nation away—
Now the flame rises high, you exult in my pain,
But the son of Alknumok shall never complain.
I go to the land where my father is gone,
His ghost shall rejoice at the fame of his son:
Death comes like a friend to relieve me from pain—
And thy son, O Alknumok has scorn'd to complain.
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VI. Anna.

[...]Shepherds I have lost my love; Have you seen my [...] Anna? Bride of ev'ry shady grove, upon the banks of [...] Ban [...]a: I for her my home forsook, near yon misty [...] mountain; Left my flock, my pipe, my crook, green wood, [...] shade, and fountain.

Never shall I see them more,
Until her returning:
All the joys of life are o'er,
From gladness chang'd to mourning.
Chorus. I for her, &c.
Whither is my charmer flown?
Shepherds, tell me whither;
Ah, woe is me! perhaps she's gone,
For ever and for ever!
I for her, &c.
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VII. Myra.

[...]The world, my dear Myra, is full of deceit, and friend­ship's [...] a jew—el we seldom can meet: How strange does it [...] seem, that in searching around this source of delight is so [...] rare to be found. O friendship thou balm and rich sweet­ner [...] of life, Kind parent of ease, and composer of strife; [...] Without thee, a—las! what are riches and pow'r, But [...] empty delusions the joys of an hour.

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How much to be priz'd and esteem'd is a friend,
On whom we may always with safety depend;
Our joys, when extended, will always increase,
And griefs, when divided, are hush'd into peace.
O friendship, &c.
When Fortune is smiling whole crouds will appear,
Their kindness to offer, and friendship sincere;
Yet change but the prospect, and point out distress,
No longer to court you they eagerly press.
O friendship, &c.

VIII. Graceful move.

[...]When first I saw thee graceful move, Ah me what [...] meant my throbbing breast: Say soft con—fu—sion [...] thou art love? If love thou art, then farewel rest.

With gentle smiles assuage the pain,
Those gentle smiles did first create:
And if you cannot love again,
In pity, oh, forbear to hate.
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IX. Friendship.
Words by Mr. BIDWELL of Connecticut. Tune, The British Muse.

[...]Friendship to ev'ry gen'rous mind, opens a heav'nly treasure There may the sons of sorrow find, sources of real pleasure, [...] See what employments men pursue, then you will own my [...] words are true. Friendship alone unsolds to view, [...] sources of real pleasure. [...]

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Poor are the joys which fools esteem,
Fading and transitory;
Mirth is as fleeting as a dream,
Or a delusive story:
Luxury leaves a sting behind,
Wounding the body and the mind;
Only in friendship can we find,
Pleasure and solid glory.
Beauty with all its gaudy show,
Is but a painted bubble;
Short is the triumph wit bestows,
Full of deceit and trouble:
Fame, like a shadow, flies away,
Titles and dignities decay;
Nothing but Friendship can display,
Joys that are free from trouble.
Learning, that boasted glittering thing,
Scarcely is worth possessing;
Riches, for ever on the wing,
Cannot be call'd a blessing;
Sensual pleasure sweels desire,
Just as the fuel feeds the fire;
Friendship can real bliss inspire,
Bliss that is worth possessing.
Happy the man who has a Friend,
Form'd by the God of nature;
Well may he feel and recommend,
Friendship with his Creator:
Then as our hands in Friendship join,
So let our social powers combine;
[...] by a passion most divine,
[...] Friendship with our Creator.
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X. Glee, for three Voices.
Words by BEN JOHNSON.

[...]Drink to me only with thine eyes, & I will pledge with mine: [...] Or leave a kiss within the cup, And I'll not look for wine. [...]

N. B. Close with the first strain.

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XI. Anna's Urn.

[...]Encompass'd in an angel's frame, an angel's virtues [...] lay; Too soon did heaven assert the claim, and call'd its [...] own away, and call'd its own away. My Anna's [...] worth, my Anna's charms must never more return, must [...] never more return. What now shall fill these widow'd arms? [...] ah me! ah me! ah me! my Anna's urn.

Each rural scene my Anna lov'd';
Around my peaceful cot,
Contentment's beams for ever shone;
So happy was my lot.
But Anna's gone! and sweet content
Will never more return;
You ne'er will find it, flutt'ring heart,
But in my Anna's urn.
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Pleasure which led each varying scene,
Is now for ever flown;
The sweets of each returning year
Are fled, now Anna's gone.
Thither her village friends shall haste,
Around the spot to mourn.
Her fleecy charge shall cease to graze
And bleat round Anna's urn.
Around its base to deck a sod,
I'll rifle from my bower
The woodbine, jess'mine, myrtle, rose,
With ev'ry fragrant flower.
At eve when Phebus quits the plain,
And at his first return;
He'll find me wat'ring with my tears,
The shrubs round Anna's urn.
END.

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