ACT VI. SCENE I. Temple Garden. In the foreground, PHILIP'S cottage; in background, the sea. The morning begins to dawn. PHILIP. NOW morning dawns, out yonder. Truo, tho sun Yet resteth in the sea : but yon thick clouds, Exhaling o'er tho billows, harbinger His advent. Why must his approach to us Bo still mist-hidden ? When shall wo attain Tho privilege to seo him as ho is, In unveil'd splendour ?—Patience still, and hope ! [Going to the jlowcr-l How tho terrific storm of yester-night Hath comforted my little darlings here, The flowers !—Night-Violet, hast thou felt no fear ? Poor thing, fear nought !—the devastating flash Of lightning only strikes the cedar tall ; Small things like you, your very littleness Protects, and that same hurricane which rends Rock-masses, to the corn-fields adds new strength. (Pause.) Securely I have slumbered in your midst, But now once more my fitful destiny Impels me to tho heights. I go, dear friends ! Soon as the warm sun, whose mild friendly beams Hath fostered you, shall this day from your cheek Kiss off the tears of joy ye shed to feel The renovation of your vital powers ; Soon as yo unfold in gladness, to drink in His ray, your friend will toss on far-off waves