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To your taught mind, now rich in good resolves, There is stretch'd forth, in future prospect fair, Scenes that a God might please.

Ethw. How so, good Ethelbert?

Eth. And dost thou not perceive? O see before thee Thy native land, free'd from the ills of war And hard oppressive power, a land of peace! Where yellow fields unspoil'd, and pastures green, Mottled with herds and hocks, who crop secure Their native herbage, nor have ever known A stranger's stall, smile gladly. See, thro' its tufted alleys to heaven's roof The curling smoke of quiet dwellings rise; Whose humble masters, with forgotten spear Hung on the webbed wall, and cheerful face In harvest fields embrown'd, do gaily talk Over their ev'ning meal, and bless king Ethwald, The valiant yet the peaceful, whose wise rule, Firm and rever'd, has brought them better days Than e'er their fathers knew.

Ethw. A scene, indeed, fair and desirable, But ah how much confin'd! Were it not work A God befitting, with exerted strength. By one great effort to enlarge its bounds, And spread the blessing wide?

''Eth. (starting back from him.)'' Ha! there it is! that serpent bites thee still! O spurn it, strangle it! let it rise no more!