Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/56

36

Here, on thy left.

Surely these wild scenes have depriv'd thy tongue Of speech. Let's hear thy voice's sound, good man, To say thou art alive. Thou'rt marvellous silent: Didst thou not also hear them?

I know not truly if I did. Around me, All seems like the dark mingled mimicry Of fev'rish fleep; in which the half-doubting mind, Wilder'd and weary, with a deep-drawn breath, Says to itself, "Shall I not wake?"

Fy, man! Wilt thou not keep thy soldier's spirit up? To-morow's sun will be thy waking time, And thou wilt wake a rich man and a free.

My waking time!—no, no! I must sleep on, And have no waking.

Ha! does thy mind misgive thee on the brink?

What passes in my mind, to thee is nothing,