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Is it not day-light there? And these green boughs Are fresh and fragrant round thee: every sense Tells thee it is the cheerful early day.

Or. Aye, so it is; day takes his daily turn, Rising between the gulphy dells of night Like whiten'd billows on a gloomy sea; Till glow-worms gleam, and stars peep thro' the dark, And will-o'-the-wisp his dancing taper light, They will not come again. (Bending her ear to the ground) Hark, hark! Aye, hark: They are all there: I hear their hollow sound Full many a fathom down.

Theo. Be still, poor troubled soul! they'll ne'er return: They are for ever gone. Be well assured Thou shalt from henceforth have a cheerful home With crackling faggots on thy midnight fire, Blazing like day around thee; and thy friends— Thy living, loving friends still by thy side, To speak to thee and cheer thee.—See, my Orra!

No, no! athwart the wav'ring garish light, Things move and seem to be, and yet are nothing.