From these eternal regions bright, Where suns, that never set in night, Diffuse the golden day: Where spring unfading pours around, O'er all the dew-impearled ground, Her thousand colors gay: O whether on the fountain's flowery side, Whence living waters glide, Or in the fragrant grove Whose shade embosoms peace and love, New pleasures all your hours employ, And rapture every sense with every joy! Great heirs of empire! yet unborn, Who shall this island late adorn; A monarch's drooping thought to chear, Appear! Appear! Appear! Possibly this song may have been omitted at the performance. Music for it cannot be found. The spirits of Edward the Third, Philipa his Queen, and their son the Black Prince, arise together; afterwards Queen Elizabeth, succeeded by William the Third--all are described by the Hermit. The next scene opens with a "Symphony of Martial music." The last scene affords an opportunity for Emma, the Shepherd's wife, represented by Kitty Clive, to sing a bright and sprightly melody, accompanied by the string orchestra in gavotte time to the following words: If those, who live in Shepherd's bower, Press not the rich and stately bed: The new-mown hay and breathing flower A softer couch beneath them spread. If those, who sit at Shepherd's board, Soothe not their taste by wanton art: They take what Nature's gifts afford, And take it with a chearful heart. If those, who drain the Shepherd's bowl, No high and sparkling wines can boast, With wholesome cups they chear the soul, And crown them with the village toast. If those who join in Shepherd's sport, Gay-dancing on the daizy'd ground. Have not the splendor of a court; Yet Love adorns the merry round. A short dialogue between Alfred and Eltruda follows, and then the Hermit speaks, "Behold, my Lord, our venerable Bard, "Aged and blind, him whom the Muses favour. You ere you go, in our lov'd country's praise, That noblest theme, hear what his rapture breathes." This is immediately succeeded by AN ODE. When _Britain_ first at heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main: _This_ was the charter of the land, And guardian Angels sung _this_ strain: "Rule, _Britannia_, rule the waves: Britons never will be slaves." The nations, not so blest as thee, Must in their turns, to tyrants fall: While thou shalt flourish great and free, The dread and envy of them all. "Rule," etc. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful, from each foreign stroke: As the loud blast that tears the skies, Serves but to root thy native oak. "Rule," etc.