Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/175

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Come on—our tasks await us. They who know Their hours are number'd out, have little time To give the vague and slumberous languor way, Which doth steal o'er them in the breath of flowers, And whisper of soft winds.

This air will calm my spirit, ere yet I meet His eye, which must be met.—Thou here, Ximena! [She starts back on seeing.

Alas! my mother! In that hurrying step And troubled glance I read—

Thou read'st it not! Why, who would live, if unto mortal eye The things lay glaring, which within our hearts We treasure up for God's?—Thou read'st it not! I say, thou canst not!—There's not one on earth Shall know the thoughts, which for themselves have made And kept dark places in the very breast Whereon he hath laid his slumber, till the hour When the graves open!