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Alfred

An Heroic Poem, in Twenty-Four Books. By Joseph Cottle: 4th ed.

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While hast'ning toward his followers, Alfred sees

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Far thro' the trees—that melancholy man—
Sigbert, with solemn step, the woods among,
Restless as wandering Jew Sigbert perceived
Alfred, and rush'd to meet him. Thus he cried,
‘My long-lost prince! my master! have I found
‘Thee, Alfred! oh my king? Thy fearful frown
‘At any other moment I might shun,
‘Yet now I heed it not, to see again
‘My long-lost lord.’—Alfred remember'd well
His former anger, but, the sudden joy
From certainty that he was yet a king,
So fill'd his mind, that he forgot the past,
And, wistless what he said, cried, ‘Peace be thine!’
Sigbert then spake: ‘My master, pardon me!
‘And with my weakness bear a little space,
‘That I may tell my grief. To name the pain
‘This breast hath felt, since thou didst bid me go
‘An outcast and a murd'rer, I would fain
‘But cannot. Oh, my king, this heart is sad!
‘I, from a guilty conscience have endured
‘Anguish so terrible and past the power
‘Of words to tell, that how a heart should bear
‘A load so vast, I knew not till this hour.
‘Pardon me, monarch!’—