Its time was come—and from the spirit's depths
The passion and the melody
Of its immortal voice, in triumph broke
Like a strong rushing wind!
The soft pure air
Came floating through that hall—the Grecian air,
Laden with music—flute notes from the vales,
Echoes of song—the last sweet sounds of life
And the glad sunshine of the golden clime
Streamed, as a royal mantle, round her form—