University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

THE INSIDE OF AN ANCIENT SEPULCHRE.
LLANDORVIN.
(reclining against a broken Monument with a lamp.)
When the soul sickens at the bloody scenes
Of barbarous outrage, that deform the world,
How sweetly peaceful is the silent tomb!
Yet such is the base fury of our foes,
That senseless havoc even here has raged
Against the honoured dead. Ye shattered forms
Of warriors, who of old for freedom fought,
How gladly would my injured age become
Insensible as you to savage wrongs,
But that my darling child—again my fancy
Would mock me with the sound of her approach.
It is the hour! but she perchance—Again
The crumbling earth tells me some foot is near.
How fondly eager are my lips to hail
The expected daughter; and yet dare not call her
Till I can catch her voice. O righteous Heaven!
Delude not my fond senses, that persuade me
I may distinguish in some distant sounds
The utterance of my child.

GWENDYLEN,
(behind the scene.)
Have I a father?
'Tis Gwendylen who calls.

LLANDORVIN.
My child! my child!