Languages & literature > Alfred: a masque

3°
ALFRED:
Where fpring, unfading, pours around.
O'er all the dew-impearled ground,
Her thoufand colors gay;
The mejfenger of heaven's high king,
I come ; and happy tidings bring,
To chear this drooping ijle :
Behold her cruel foes are fled!
Behold fair freedom lifts the head.
And all his children fmile!
The damn, that now unveils her Jhies,
See England’; future glory rife:
A better age is born !
Then, let each voice of fprightly ftrain,
Around from warbling hilt and plain,
Hail this triumphant morn!
Grand Chorus.
Then let each voice offprightly ft rain.
Around from warbling hill and plain,
Hail this triumphant morn!
SCENE VI.
Eltruda, Hermit, wr/c/'DevoN.
Devon, kneeling.
Succefs is ours
Bit. The king, my lord—1
Devon. Returns,
Vi«51orious and unhurt.
Bit. Then, firft, to heaven,.
For this beft news I humbly bend the knee
In grateful adoration.—Now proceed,
My lord ; and leave no circumftante untold
Of this amazing night.
Devon. Her mifty (bade
Had now enclos’d us round; when, led fecure
By Edwin's eye, the darkeft depth I reach’d
Of Kinwith-wood. We parted—He, in ha fie.
Back to his charge. I thro’ the cavern’d path,