Achilles, a Canzonet

Achilles roams the damp and sounding shore,
Nor hears th’ approaching tempest’s sullen roar;
Indignant mourns, by rage and anguish toss’d,
His honour stain’d, his fair Briseis is lost!

AIR.--BASS.
Mix’d with the rising wind his groan;--
Mark it, proud Troy! the welcome sound
Respites thine altars and thy throne,
Tho’ fierce Tydides thunder round.

AIR.--AMOROSO. ACHILLES.
“My Maid, my black-eyed Maid,” deprived of thee,
Life has no joy, and love no charm for me!

AIR.--BRAVOURA.
Tyrant, ’tis well!--in baffled combat long
Thy vanquish’d myriads shall avenge this wrong!

PRECEDING AIR RESUMED.
But ah! nor love, nor glory, now I boast,
Brightly they shone, now darken’d each, and lost.

CHORUS.
Hero, to thee shall great revenge remain,
And Grecian armies strew the Trojan plain!