Of common breath to something exquisite,

If evening silence and the trees be round her.

1st Shep. Sir, when I heard it first, and that was

yesterday,

Standing and looking down the floating stream

With oft-returning lapse of distanc'd eyes,
I felt my cheek change colour, it awoke

So fairy-like at once; and when it rose

A second time, which was near fall of night,
As I was lingering at my open door,

Fix'd as the calm, the tears came in my eyes

Starting for sweetness.

3d Shep.

We have heard, Sir, nothing

At all resembling it, since fair Myrtilla

Sang upon evenings to your

(Interrupting him, and making side gestures

Myrt.

Never till now; and so, we have remember'd
What in sage books is told of reverend men,
And of their power to hear celestial things,
And voices of the sky; and now you're here,—
Pardon us, Sir,—we think that if you spoke to it,
It might give utterance, and disclose it's purpose.

Eun. I fear, my friends, you think too potently
Of an old man, whose heart is yearning still,
Not for celestial, but for earthly voices :-
But those are past,—and in the hope some day
To hear them yet again with other ears,
I have not fallen into so much bitterness
With my humanity, or such resentment
At ill's apparent wonders, as to shut
My fancy up in a dull downward sleep,
And never think of fair invisible things
Or good intended towards us,-good perhaps
Brought out and better'd from the taste of woe.
If spirit unearthly ever went beyond

It's dumb communication with such thoughts, Breaking air's vacancy with shape or sound, Though we, my friends, may not be men to ask it,

This is a time when wonders are abroad,

And such things might be.

(A louder and longer flourish of sweet music than

before).

3d Shep. 'Twas upon the trees there.

2d Shep. "Tis, Sir, as we supposed; pray speak to it-1st Shep. Hush! to the left.

Eun.

(The music shifts to the left with a different strain, and then makes a sudden stop).

Myrtilla, my sweet child,

Frame you a prayer out of your innocent thoughts, And speak for all; something of heav'n is near us. (He takes off his cap, the rest doing it after him).

MYRTILLA SINGS.

Gentle and unknown delight,

Hovering with thy music near us,

If that our request be right,

Lean thee tow'rd the earth, and hear us;

And if we may yet rejoice,

Touch the silence with a voice.

By the lingering day forlorn,

And the dread of the drear morrow,

By the infant yet unborn,

Waiting for its' world of sorrow,

By youth, forgetful to rejoice,
And middle age's failing voice;

By the griefs of many lands,

And hearts that waste in secret places,

By the lift of trembling hands,

And the tears on furrow'd faces,

Say, shall anguish yet rejoice?

Spirit dear, put forth a voice.

SPIRIT SINGS.

To the griefs of many lands,

To hearts that waste in secret places,

To the lift of trembling hands,

And the tears on furrowed faces,

To Beauty's and to Virtue's voice,

I am come to bid rejoice.

Two Echoes. Rejoice! Rejoice!

RECITATIVE.

'Tis my brethren of the sky,

Couriers we of Liberty,

Coming hither, one by one,

Like the streaks before the sun.

She herself is now not far,

But has passed the morning-star;

And if ye would wish to see

What shall help to set ye free,

From the greenwood start ye forth,

And turn your eyes from south to north.

(A symphony of pipes mingles in; and the

And shepherds all, rejoice, rejoice.

Echoes dying off. Rejoice! Rejoice!

Myrt. This is deliciousness!-Our friends will go, And bring us word, dear father, of this sight: You must in-doors, and rest your spirit awhile.

(Exeunt severally).