University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

Alfred
alone.
'Tis now the depth of darkness and repose.
Now walks mute Midnight shadowy o'er the plain,
To rule the solitary hour; and sheds
His slumbery influence o'er the peaceful world.
All nature seems to rest: while Alfred wakes
To think, and to be wretched.—My brave friend,
I fear me, has miscarry'd.—Where yon oak
With wide and dusky shade o'erhangs the stream,
That glides in silence by, I took my stand:
What time the glow-worm thro' the dewy path
First shot his twinkling flame. Attent I stood,
Listening each noise from twilight hill and dale:
But all was hush'd around. Nor trumpet's clang,
Nor shout of roving foe, nor hasty tread
Of evening passenger, disturb'd the wide
And awful stillness. Homeward as I sped,
O'er many a delve, thro many a path perplext,
Maze running into maze; ill-boding thoughts
Haunted my steps.—Perhaps my gallant friend,
Discover'd to the Danes, this moment bleeds
Beneath their swords! or lies a breathless corse,
The prey of midnight wolves.—Some mournful sound
Struck sudden on my sense.