Hark, each Tree its silence breaks,
The Box and Fir to talk begin.
This is the sprightly Violin,
That in the Flute distinctly speaks.
‘Twas Sympathy their list'ning Brethren drew
When to the Thracian Lyre with leafy Wings they flew.
Cold Song
Cold Song
Cold Song
Cold Song
A Prince Of Glorious Race Descended
A Prince Of Glorious Race Descended
Fairest Isle
Fairest Isle
When I Am Laid In Earth (Dido's Lament)
When I Am Laid In Earth (Dido's Lament)
Here The Deities Approve
Bid The Virtues
Here The Deities Approve
O Solitude, My Sweetest Choice
O Solitude, My Sweetest Choice
Bid The Virtues
The Honour Of a Jubilee
The Honour Of a Jubilee
Sound The Trumpet
Come, Ye Sons Of Art