Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/139

Rh

Alas! Thou gentle soul! a dark cloud o'er thee hangs, But the sun will again break thro' the gloom, And, in the soberness of calm remembrance, Thou wilt look back upon misfortunes past Like tempests that are laid. Thou dost not heed me: Thou dost not speak to me. Alas! Alas! What shall I say to thee? I've lov'd thee well, and would have lov'd thee long, Had it so been—But thou shalt be belov'd! Heaven will take charge of thee when I'm at rest: The kindly and the good shall be thy kindred, (Putting her hand in Hardibrand's.) And ev'ry sorrowful and gentle heart Shall knit itself to thee, and call thee sister. What meant, my love, that motion of thy hand?

She fain would speak to thee, but has no voice.

I know it well, Elizabeth; no voice Need'st thou to tell me how thou'st dearly lov'd me, And dearly do I prize it; 'tis my pride,