SCENE III.
Angelina returns.
Angelina.
Fainting, enfeebled, in a ceaseless round,
I wander still. Each opening lures my steps
To some contiguous path; and that, alas!
With wily bend, conducts to whence I mov'd.
Fatigue and grief o'erpower and weigh me down.
(A pause, she leans against the side scene.)
—Sweet are the days of youth, when innocence.
Lives in the breast, and heightens every charm.
But ah! with years' increase, joy flies afar;
Like the young bird, who leaves his native clime,
When summer fails; but not like him returns.
The bird, when summer charms no more,
Forsakes his native clime,
And wantons o'er the southern vales,
Which feel perpetual prime.
Yet when the season smiles again,
Raptur'd he seeks his favorite plain.
But joy, as riper days advance,
To younger bosoms goes;
Nor e'er returns, for hapless man
No second summer knows.
