No no; the world is wiser, and has found, Be sure, some nobler art that shall perplex him. The spirit that reddens at an insolent eye, That leaps 'twixt wrong and suffering, that throws up A smile to heav'n ere it's impatience executes, That says to all men, This is right, this wrong, A fierce gust of wind:-the two clouds wheel nearly together, and hover a little, darting out fires. By this time, a multitude of Shepherds have joined the others, and are gazing with anxiety at the sight. CHORUS OF PART OF THE SHEPHERDS. Moment of all anxious wonder! Hour, about to strike in thunder! Lo, we feel to that dread sound Heaven's own finger travelling round! CHORUS OF OTHER PART OF THE SHEPHERDS. Go not back, thou sacred hand, Hope of every listening land! Strike, strike, and set the nations free, And ring the knell, from clime to clime, of tyranny, of tyranny! The attacking cloud throws out brighter and thicker flames than the other :-the latter begins to heave, and give way. GRAND CHORUS. See! see! he totters in his cloudy walls! See! see! See! see! He totters, totters, in his cloudy walls! He falls! (A vivid flash of lightning). A tremendous clap of thunder, the clouds coming in contact; one bursts, and the Enchanter falls headlong, the twilight over the country vanishing. Then to the sound of distant and grand music, the other cloud, turning to a silvery hue, moves into the former's place over the city, and separates into four bright globes, on each of which sits a Genius, with one hand holding a thunderbolt carelessly on the thigh, and in the other lifting an olive-branch. They descend gradually into the city, amidst the far-off sound of bells and artillery. 2d Shep. More wonders yet:-we three will first return To the anxious hearts that wait us in the wood, Then join you in the city. Away, away! (Exeunt severally.) SCENE THE THIRD. A PLEASURE-GROUND in the suburbs of a great city laid out in a natural stile with wood and turf, the spires and domes appearing over the trees toward the side, and the view opening to the western horizon in front. Mabiel. Every thing. All spots admired Have I plied my wings about To find the best and greenest out, And on this have fixed at last, Where the meddling eastern blast Through the myrtle and the bay Shall not force his knify way To nip the sides and shrug the shoulders Of our Lady's fair beholders. Over all the beds and bowers Have I broke my softest showers; Is all that's wanting now to bring Look behind; for by the humming Phan. Yes, and is at hand already. Scarcely can I keep me steady For her wanton fays and elves, Who'd have me dancing like themselves. Wags, be off; for though I'm free As suits a sprite of Liberty, You nor all your Lady's beauty Must beguile me from my duty. |