450 COLLOQUIA ENTOMOLOGICA. 



does he live and write ? and also say, does he pursue quina- 

 rianism still? 



Lep. He lives, though in a very distant land : he writes 

 little and seldom ; he may read the more ; as to the fives, 

 I never hear of them : is there not music on the evening 



air 



Raius. A sound of voices ! 'tis the choristers who offer 

 welcome to each happy soul that comes amongst us ; yonder 

 they approach. 



(Enter little children, very beautiful, they chant 

 in voices softer than flutes, as they mingle 

 with the spirits, and approach Lepidoptero- 

 philus.) 



Children. (Chant.) Hail! son of science, hail ! hail! 

 pilgrim ; thou art welcome here, a traveller from yonder sphere, 

 (they stretch their little hands towards the earth, which is 

 shining between the trees,) its pains henceforth no more assail 

 thee! yet its blessings shall avail thee! hail! son of science, 

 hail ! The fate that bade thee die, worked only for thy good : 

 affection binds us with the tie of holy brotherhood, and 

 though our friends on earth were dear, e'en friendship's bond 

 draws closer here ; of friendship pure, like ours, the birth is 

 after spirits leave the earth. Welcome here! each child of 

 clay, who from yon dwelling finds his way to where the spirits 

 of the blest have entered their eternal rest. 



[The children run away laughing. 



Aris. How sweet to hear those little voices raised in an 

 according and melodious strain, just when the shades of evening 

 wander forth to cool the air and renovate our frames ! 



Stom. (Chants.) Sweet is the hour of evening, softly 

 blending the hues of golden day and silvery night, when each 

 for empire seems awhile contending, and air is glowing with a 

 purple light, that moment after moment grows less bright, 

 as hope 'gainst reason striving fades away, yet hardly yields 

 to be extinguished quite, so witchingly she holds her cheering 

 ray, to lure misguided wanderers from their heavenward 

 way. 



Raius. 'Tis sweetly sung, and worthy of thyself; list, 

 while I chant the praises of a smile. (Chants.) Bright as 

 the day that breaks anew, bright as the opening flow'ret's hue, 



