O silver trumpets be you lifted up
[He lays the crown on the King’s head.
And cry to the great race that is to come.
Long-throated swans among the waves of time
Sing loudly, for beyond the wall of the world
It waits and it may hear and come to us.
[Some of the Pupils blow a blast upon their horns.
Curtain.
[1] Written for the first production of “The King’s Threshold” in Dublin, but not used, as, owing to the smallness of the company, nobody could be spared to speak it.