Alfred An Heroic Poem, in Twenty-Four Books. By Joseph Cottle: 4th ed. |
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 | Alfred |  |
Now, uncertainty,
Mists and thick clouds, upon the future hung!
He fear'd the crimson dawn would never burst
That brought the hour, when he might consummate
All that his heart had cherish'd. 'Mid the strife,
T' augment the tumult of his breast, again
Alswitha's form, through his distracted mind,
Rush'd, dress'd in terrors. ‘Where is she,’ he cried,
‘And what her wrongs, unfriended, far away!’
Mists and thick clouds, upon the future hung!
He fear'd the crimson dawn would never burst
That brought the hour, when he might consummate
All that his heart had cherish'd. 'Mid the strife,
T' augment the tumult of his breast, again
Alswitha's form, through his distracted mind,
Rush'd, dress'd in terrors. ‘Where is she,’ he cried,
‘And what her wrongs, unfriended, far away!’
| Alfred | |