Or in graver mood take wing Beyond the bounds of every thing, And look in, with half-check'd sight, Where with his eternal ear Time is listening.-Mortals dear, Think on all I've done and said, And keep my blessings on your head. Here the great cloud, on which Liberty is seated, begins to disengage itself from the others,-Peace and the rest of the Goddesses joining in a All the sounds of lofty pleasure, Fuming ventage, stately bow, Ivory dint of dancing fingers, Touch that leaves, and voice that lingers, Till our own full voice aspires To attend our sovereign Queen, With vows and lifted looks between, Up into the blue serene. The cloud begins to rise with Liberty and her attendant spirits, and all the spectators burst into the FINAL CHORUS. O dear Goddess, wherever we are, We'll never forget thee, we'll never forget thee; Spots may come over our mortal star, But a light must remain upon all who have met thee. Rise, rise, To thine airy skies, With the bliss of good deeds in thy bosom and eyes. Thou hast taught us a lesson our children shall learn, And made the homes happy to which we return. [Exeunt Omnes. EPILOGUE. POETA LOQUITUR. "Tis done. The vision from my fancy's eye But not directly does the earthly chain, That holds me here, come closing round again; C. H. Reynell, Printer, 21, Piccadilly, London. -97 |