SESTETTO, Miss GOODALL,
Mr. BRAHAM, Mr. TERRAIL, Mr. HAWES,
Mr. PHILLIPS, and Mr. BELLAMY.
Vice will find no pleasure
In the boundless treasure
Which fond Nature, without measure,
Offers to his view in vain;
Nought can sooth his bosom's sadness,
Nought can quench his bosom's madness,
Nought can bring back gladness
To that venom'd heart again.
RECIT. Miss GOODALL.
All bail to thee, Religion! Thou that bindest
With reason's tie the else unfetter'd soul :
All hail to thee! whose soft and mild controul ls dear to e'en the worst and blindest.
All hail to thee! Thou can'st enlighten
The deepest shades of sorrow's gloom;
And e'en the darkness of the tomb
Thy magic smile can brighten,
And cheer us onward to our doom;
E'en though the soul his worn and weary,
And all around is sad and dreary.
'Tis thine each raging storm to calm,
As falls the dew upon the blossom,
So on the sad and wounded bosom
Descends the pure and holy balı.
The eye, in which the tear was gleaming,
At thy approach with joy is beaming.
Our path with thorns may be o'ergrown,
Yet will we joy while thou'rt beside us;
Through vice's maze thou safe wilt guide us,
To kneel before our Maker's throne.
Praised be the Lord-let earth, air, ocean raise,
In loud accord, the song of grateful praise;
And waft the sound on seraphic wings,
Before th' Almighty King of Kings.
Hallelujah!All hail, oh Lord.
N.B. The whole of this Cantata is published, at the Argyll Rooms.