University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

A different part of the forest. Angelina enters, disguised in the habit of a Pilgrim.
Angelina.
With melancholy steps, hopeless I wander;
And no repose, no sheltering shed, discern.
—O Edwin! how has vanity repaid me!—
With wreck of happiness, and loss of peace.
Hated by thee, myself I hate, and find,
From solitude, whence ease I hop'd, new pains.—
—'Mid these wild woods, hostile, or full of fear,
Where'er I come, the beasts menacing howl,
Or fly, as from some desolating fiend.
The warblers cease their songs, or flit away,
And on the distant trees' soft-waving tops,
Insult my sorrows with their merriest notes.
The forest green, and every budding plant,
Flowers, and the springing blade, and mantling vine.
All the full blessing of the spring enjoy;
And to my soul new melancholy add.—
—My tears incessant flow!—Alas! how sad,
How desolate is life; when but to think
On those whom most we love, afflicts us most.
The soft, and gently-pleasing woe,
Which two fond hearts, divided, know,
The soul with sweetest suffering moves;
But O! when guilt with absence joins,
Grief it to agony refines,
And fires to rage the breast that loves.

[She goes out.