DUET. PHANIEL AND MABIEL SING. O wrapping looks and balmy tongue, Sweet as summer air through tree, O PEACE, whose very name's a pleasure, To bless us here, And light with silken foot upon our leisure! FIRST GENIUS SPEAKS. By the last tear that hangs to day, For thy kiss to clip away; SECOND GENIUS. By the toil of struggling hearts, That rest them from their final parts; THIRD GENIUS. By hopes, that wait in rising lands A blessing from thy gentle hands; FOURTH GENIUS. By home-delights, and spirits free, And one full sigh of earth and sea, And victorious Liberty; THE TWO SPIRITS TAKING Up the SONG AGAIN. Re-appear! Re-appear! CHORUS OF SPECTATORS. Earth is worthy to regain thee, And hopes it may not always pain thee. A pause of listening silence, and then an exquisite voice in the air: Greatest Goddess of our sphere, Elves, and human beings dear, I am here! I am here! A descent of turtle-doves, who sweep gently off in pairs on either side, and a couple of snowy feet are discerned treading the air, as it were, softly downwards. The whole figure soon appears, and a strain of flutes welcomes the arrival of Peace. She is habited in white like an angel, with dove-coloured wings, on which she comes hovering down, a sheep-bell hanging on one of the fingers of her right hand, and a wreath of olive and myrtle on her head. As she descends, she spreads her hands hither and thither with gestures of benediction, and alighting at the foot of Liberty, embraces her with upward-looking affection and reverence, taking her seat there in conclusion. The spectators stretch out their hands in an attitude of eager and mute worship. Liberty. I must thank thee, sweet, I fear; For among the voices here Gushes of sweet tears have broken ; But how indeed could they have spoken, Who beheld at once in thee Worlds of home felicity, Hopes come back, that all seem'd gone,- E 1 Charm'd they are at ears and eyes, And as with new faculties Seem to look abroad and hear Basking silence wrap the sphere, And on land, for countless miles, Passion rests and Nature smiles, And not a harsher sound is heard Than of nest-resuming bird, With flocks, and streams, and village calls, And bells, that winds fling out o'er walls From joyous towns at intervals. Come; 'tis ours, assembled here, To flush the triumph. If the tenderness within Goddess dear, Has left thy voice, begin, begin, And summon from their waiting climes The pleasures that perfect victorious times. Peace. I obey; and thus commence With one shall freshen unexerted sense. SHE SINGS. Holder of the smiles of heaven, Listening eye and forehead even, Who from out the thrill'd air broke, When Love first saw the light and spoke, O MUSIC, mildest, Warmest, wildest, Wind thee down from sphere to sphere, CHORUS OF CHERUBS. Earth is worthy now of thee, And only waits thy harmony. A sweet sound in the air, gradually descending, and growing louder, the winds themselves making a harmony as they swell among the trees. A cloud then appears from the top of the scene, and bursting open with a fullness of fine sounds, Music issues forth in a |