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All the dread night beside thee, till her brain Is darken'd by swift waves of fantasies, And her soul faint with longing for thy voice. Oh! I must wake him with one gentle kiss On his fair brow! (Shudderingly) The strange damp thrilling touch! The marble chill! Now, now it rushes back— Now I know all!—dead—dead!—a fearful word! My boy hath left me in the wilderness, To journey on without the blessed light In his deep loving eyes—he's gone—he's gone!

[Her enters. Husband. Agnes, my Agnes! hast thou look'd thy last On our sweet slumberer's face? The hour is come— The couch made ready for his last repose.

Agnes. Not yet! thou canst not take him from me yet! If he but left me for a few short days, This were too brief a gazing time, to draw