Page:The Vespers of Palermo.pdf/49



—Why, thou, and I, and all!—There's One, who sits In his own bright tranquillity enthroned, High o'er all storms, and looking far beyond Their thickest clouds; but we, from whose dull eyes A grain of dust hides the great sun, e'en we Usurp his attributes, and talk, as seers, Of future joy and grief!

Thy words are strange. Yet will I hope that peace at length shall settle Upon thy troubled heart, and add soft grace To thy majestic beauty.—Fair Vittoria! Oh! if my cares——

I know a day shall come Of peace to all. Ev'n from my darken'd spirit Soon shall each restless wish be exorcised, Which haunts it now, and I shall then lie down Serenely to repose. Of this no more. —I have a boon to ask.

Command my power, And deem it thus most honour'd.

Have I then Soar'd such an eagle-pitch, as to command The mighty Eribert?—And yet 'tis meet; For I bethink me now, I should have worn A crown upon this forehead.—Generous lord! Since thus you give me freedom, know, there is An hour I have loved from childhood, and a sound, Whose tones, o'er earth and ocean sweetly bearing A sense of deep repose, have lull'd me oft