 | Alfred |  |
SCENE II.
Eltruda.Amid the depth of this surrounding gloom,
While nature all is hush'd, Eltruda wakes
To think—and to be wretched. Oh my love!
My heart's sole rest and refuge! Where is he!
Victor or vanquish'd—what is now his fate?
Moments of terror—Ha! what noise was that?
Each sound appals me, and each thought is death!
'Twas more than fancy sure: it seem'd the groan
Of bleeding men—O every guardian wing
Of saints and angels shield him! from his breast
Turn wide the flying shaft, the lifted steel,
And, sheltering him, a ruin'd nation save.
Who comes? Speak, quickly speak.
| Alfred | |