University of Virginia Library

SCENE VII.

Adam.
[Solus.]
What is the conflict then this day I feel?
My mis'ry's at its height, and I am calm.
O torments, which already I've endur'd,
Can you grow stronger at approach of death?
If so, thou deadly calm, in thy dull sleep
Wrap all my faculties, chain up my senses,
And, like a victim to the altar brought,
Crown'd with fresh garlands, lead me to the grave.
O grave, which silence and her sister death
Inhabit, like a worn-out traveller,
Thou shalt receive me to thy cold dank bosom,
Thence never to return.—And thou, blest soul,
Soul of my child, my Abel, in this hour
Wand'rest, perhaps, around thy father's grave.—
If thou wert present, my beloved son,
When God Almighty, in his just decree,
Charg'd the dread angel to announce aloud,
My hour of death: O come before my soul
When it shall hover o'er my trembling lips,
And these dim eyes fall sightless dark for ever.
O Abel! Oh, how different thy death
From mine! all bath'd in blood, thou heav'dst but thrice
A parting groan, and then thy death was sleep.