Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/421

Rh

Fear not, sweet Ella! whizzing balls there be That, in midway, are from their course declin'd By the poor orphan's little lisped prayer; And there be arrows that are turn'd aside, In their swift flight, by the soft sighs of love, Unheard of earthly ears. This is a creed, In the good faith of which poor seamen climb Their rocking masts, in the full roar of battle, And we'll believe it.

It is a blessed one: I would believe it.

Yes, we'll believe it. Whilst our battle roars, Thou'lt think of me in thy lone distant tower, And be to me a gallant armed mate, With prayers and wishes striving powerfully. Give me thy hand: we will not weep and wail: We will part cheerfully.—God bless thee, Ella! Nay, hang not on me thus! Thou lov'st a brave man: be thou valiant then, As suits a brave man's love.

O no! I've fondly fix'd myself upon thee, Most worthless and unsuited to thy worth. Like a poor weed on some proud turret's brow, I wave, and nod, and kiss the air around thee, But cannot be like thee.