William Bates
(fl.1750 - 1780)

Hail, sacred horrors
(T.T.B.)
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Included by Thomas Warren in his "Collection of vocal harmony consisting of catches, canons and glees never before published", c.1775.
Lyrics: Anon, probably the composer

Hail, sacred horrors,
Hail, tremendous death,
Whose blasting breath
doth all assail;
Thee too, mould'ring grave,
thy conquest rue
her to subdue;
Nought worthy left to wish to save.

The vernal rose which opes its sweets
To zephyrs, when his breath she meets,
Was Daphne in her bloom.
O will divine, to thee she stoops,
She, like her sister Lily, droops,
And bows her to thy doom.

Oh ghastly death, where's now thy sting?
Thou grave, thy greatest victory sing;
Your terror now lay by.
None like to her shalt thou e'er slay,
E'er one like her is wrapped in clay,
Time of old age shall die.