Lucile | ||
X.
‘O Lucile! my predestined, inscrutable fate!‘Thou hast forced me to weep, but the tears flow too late.
‘Why, I know not! they cannot extinguish the fire
‘That consumes me. Leave, leave me the scorn and the ire
‘Which are all that can yet give me strength to resign
‘Those gentler emotions which might have been mine.’
Lucile | ||