THE INSTITUTIΟΝ OF THE Order of the GARTER. SCENE, WINDSOR PARK. Flourish of aërial mufic at a distance, after which the following verfes are fung in the air by SPIRITS, while the GENIUS of England defcends. H1 First SPIRIT. THER, all ye heav'nly pow'rs, From your empyreal bow'rs; From the fields for ever gay, From the moon's relucent horn, From the bow, whofe mingling dyes Sweetly cheer the frowning fkies; From From the filver cloud that fails Shadowy o'er the darken'd vales; CHORUS of SPIRITS. Fly, and through the limpid air Hither, all ye heav'nly pow'rs! Now in everlasting rest Share the glories of the bleft! Peers and nobles of the sky, Spirits immortal, hither fly! CHORUS Of SPIRITS. Fly, and through the limpid air Third Third SPIRIT. Hither too, ye tuneful throng, Sacred bards! whofe rapt'rous ftrains Sooth the patriot's gen'rous cares; Heav'nly vifions, hopes refin'd; Safe from envy's blasting flame, Pure, fincere, in those abodes, CHORUS of SPIRITS. Fly, and charm the limpid air, To his fea-encircled throne Wafts Britannia's Genius down. I 3 Chorus Chorus of BARDS defcends, dress'd in long flowing skycolour'd robes Spangled with stars, with garlands of oaken boughs upon their heads, and golden harps in their bands, made like the Welch, or old British harp. Before they appear, they fing the chorus, and afterwards, as they defcend, the following fongs; at the laft ftanza of which, the chariot of the GENIUS appears, and defcends gradually all the while that and the grand chorus is finging. CHORUS Of BARDS. Gentle Spirit, we obey; Thus along th' ætherial way, We attend our monarch's car; Thus we charm the filent air, SON G. First BARD. Ye fouthern gales, that ever fly Who, as ye skim along the sky, Dip your light pinions in the main, Then shake them fraught with genial fhow'rs, 2. Now 2. Now ceafe awhile your wanton fport, Now drive each threat'ning cloud away; Then to the flow'ry vale refort, And hither all its fweets convey; And ever as ye dance along, With fofteft murmurs aid our fong. SONG II. Second BARD. But lo! fair Windfor's tow'rs appear, And now I view a glitt'ring train, Grand CHORUS of SPIRITS and BARDS. Hail mighty nation! ever fam'd in war! |