Of others, but I'm grateful,-and a joy

Despaired of comes to us like Heaven's own message
To bid us be content.-And yet I've wanted not
An angel with me :-ay, my boy, do thank her ;—
She need not turn from you, as she was wont
To do from me sometimes, her watery cheek
Or manage, with a lovely, pale pretence

;

Of unconcern, to draw from out your sight
The ring that slips upon her wasted finger.
Phil. Did she do so? Did you do thus, my best
And tenderest heart,—my wife?-May Heaven for this,
If only this, bring out that cheek again

Into it's dimpled outline,-Heaven for this

Cool the dear hand I grasp with health and peace,

Bless thee in body and mind, in home and husband,一
And when old age, reverencing thy looks

In all it can, comes with his gentle withering,
Some thin and ruddy streaks still lingering on thee,

May it, unto the last keep thee thy children,
Full-numbered round about thee, to supply

With eyes, feet, voice, and arms, and happy shoulders

Thy thoughts, and wishes, books, and leaning-stocks,
And make the very yielding of thy frame

Delightful for their propping it.—Come, come,
We will have no more tears.-My old companions,
Generous, I see, as ever, pray forgive me;

I had not overlooked you, but for these;
And now for these, as well as for old times,
My hand must grapple with you. Ah, Damætas,
You've not forgotten your old shake, I find,—
The cordial crush that used to lay one's hand up.

3d Shep. Pray take it, Sir, for all the shakes I owe you. 2d Shep. And now we'll leave, Sir, to your better

keeping

Our happy friends :-
:-we had not staid thus long,

But that we feared you might have thought us careless.
Phil. Nay, if you go, you'll only come again;

For as I heard, the pomps were just prepared

To leave the city, and strike hereabouts.

Flourish of a pipe in the air;—the voice of Phaniel

is heard.

Shoot your slender voice below,

And let the pomps and triumphs know.

Flourish of a distant pipe, and after a little pause, grand music approaching from the city. Enter the foremost part of the crowd of spectators on each side of the scene, congratulations passing between them; when suddenly, in the midst of the coming music, and to the attraction of all eyes, a purple light rises in the west, with winged cherubs touching away the little coloured clouds on either side; and the figure of Liberty is seen advancing on her cloud of silver. The acclamations of the crowd suddenly burst into a

CHORUS.

'Tis she! 'Tis she!

'Tis Liberty,

Come to crown our wonders;

To follow our night

With a perfect light,

And with airy health our thunders!

O Goddess dear, our hearts leap up before thee,
And on our feet like men, we best adore thee!

By this time the cloud has descended to the back of the front scene, the cherubs seating themselves playfully about it, with Phaniel and Mabiel. The music, which seemed about to enter, suddenly ceases, and Liberty speaks.

Well met, my friends. After long centuries
The unprison'd airs here freshen once again,

And feel as they were fit for hearts and eyes
To breathe and sparkle in. You thank me nobly.
Now let the doers of my glorious work,

Those Spirits of the Nations, whom I taught

The way to conquer for themselves and you,

Come in their pride before me, and receive
The crowning thanks I owe them.

A blast of trumpets. The music strikes up into a Prussian march, and one of the four Genii, or Spirits of the Nations, who overthrew the Enchanter, enters in a low chariot sculptured with instruments of war and formed after the fashion of those in Homer, that is to say, a mere shell for a standing-place, open at the back, and drawn by a couple of white palfreys. He is habited in a short girdled vest, leaving his arms, knees, and throat naked, with a head of manly curls, a star gleaming on his forehead, and two large and dark wings at his shoulders,―altogether presenting the appearance of an angel in the bloom of manhood,-—-immortal spirits not being outwardly touched, like men, by the cares of their respective employments. On the front-edge of his car is an eagle carved in ebony. Liberty, as he stops in passing, presents him with a crown of laurel, which he holds in his hands while she addresses him :