Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/153

Rh Than I had thought our cold sea held in store, But sure some genial influence abroad Breathes from the deep or showers from on high, For on the gray wall of our abbey grange An old vine droops, tho' trebly secular With weight of grapes beyond man's memory, And as gold day turns silver evening We mark, rose-flaming in a violet sky The planet Hesper burn as bright, as clear As wedding torch of epithalamy Lit for this old world's spousal with a star!

( and pass out )

(Enter and )

Here let us rest, one cannot dance all day! Our farandôle is finish'd, soon the Court Will tread their study'd stately minuet, Pacing and pausing as the cadence falls.