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SCENE I.

Naomi, and Ruth.
RECITATIVE.
Nao.
Turn, O daughter, turn thy eyes,
Where Bethlehem's glittering spires arise—
How fair her flowery vales extend!
How bold her swelling hills ascend!

AIR.

Dear native Soil! do I again
Thy kindly breeze inhale?
No air of any foreign plain
Could thus my sense regale.
RECITATIVE.
Ruth.
Fair is thy land, O mother! wondrous fair!
My bosom from the view strange transport seems to share.


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AIR.

New scenes, and new prospects, my spirit employ,
And with hopes of new happiness chear me;
My heart all enliven'd indulges its joy,
And some sudden blessing seems near me.
RECITATIVE.
Nao.
Behold, my lovely child, behold,
How Bethlehem's streets at our approach pour forth their young and old!