 | Leucothoe |  |
SCENE V.
PHOEBUS with the Horæ, CLYTIE with her Slaves.Phoebus,
entring.
Oh most accursed King! inhuman Sire!
My life! my love! my only heart's desire!
Leucothöe! Oh murder'd!—Hence, away
Like light'ning: help her ere 'tis yet too late.
[To the Hours.
If there's a spark of life unquench'd, we may
Redeem her still, and snatch her soul from fate
[Going off.
Clytie,
kneeling.
Oh, Phoebus! hither turn your angry eyes!
[Exit Phœbus, Clytie looking after him.
What! gone without a word!
55
Dear Lady, rise:
Think where you are—
Clytie.
Went he not frowning too?
What sudden horrors rush upon my view!
Rising, and casting round her eyes.
What desolate coast is this we tread,
So like the dreary nation of the dead?
Thus wretched Ariadne, left behind,
Wept on the shores of Argos, bleak and bare;
While cruel Theseus fled before the wind,
Nor listen'd to the voice of her despair.
Slave.
Laid her on gently.
Clytie.
Stay ye yet awhile;
My brain's on fire, my blood begins to boil:
What do you hold me for?—Stand off.
Slave.
Alas!
What still I've fear'd—at length is come to pass.
Her senses are disturb'd.
[Thunder.
Clytie.
What noise was that?
Jove talking—all the Gods are in debate
Upon my future welfare.—Hark! hark! hark!
Not a word more—'tis grown exceeding dark:
See clouds on clouds above each other rise,
In sable mountains, to obscure the skies.
'Tis done! Where am I? Let me grope my way
Again thro' this black passage into day.
Jove talking—all the Gods are in debate
56
Not a word more—'tis grown exceeding dark:
See clouds on clouds above each other rise,
In sable mountains, to obscure the skies.
'Tis done! Where am I? Let me grope my way
Again thro' this black passage into day.
Ah, wretch! bewilder'd wretch!
In vain my arms I stretch,
In vain I feel about:
Will no kind star afford its light,
To guide my erring steps aright?
No friendly hand held out,
Conduct me thro' this gloom of night!
In vain my arms I stretch,
In vain I feel about:
Will no kind star afford its light,
To guide my erring steps aright?
No friendly hand held out,
Conduct me thro' this gloom of night!
Slave.
Patience! sweet patience! all shall yet go well.
Clytie.
At length the vapours gradu'lly dispel;
Sure 'tis the dawn, from yonder point it breaks,
Bright'ning the front of heav'n with rosy streaks.
[Thunder again.
There leap'd th'eternal coursers with a bound
From the green flood—and now 'tis light around.
Lo! where aloft immortal Phoebus stands,
Graceful the reins, depending from his hands:
He looks, he smiles, he beckons me from far;
I run, I fly, I mount the fiery car.
Oh! Triumph, Triumph, seated by his side,
Sublime in splendor, thro' the air I ride.
Sure 'tis the dawn, from yonder point it breaks,
Bright'ning the front of heav'n with rosy streaks.
[Thunder again.
There leap'd th'eternal coursers with a bound
From the green flood—and now 'tis light around.
Lo! where aloft immortal Phoebus stands,
Graceful the reins, depending from his hands:
He looks, he smiles, he beckons me from far;
I run, I fly, I mount the fiery car.
57
Sublime in splendor, thro' the air I ride.
We come! we come!
Make room! make room!
Now climbing heav'n's stupend'ous steep,
We view the Empyrean height;
Now o'er the smooth meridian sweep,
The earth below too small for sight;
Now down the blue concave descending again,
Impetu'us we drive to the western main:
While at every crash,
Of the thundering lash,
As we whirl along, the zodiac round
Replies to the stroke, and ecchoes the sound.
Bless me! oh, how am I oppress'd?
Soft, lay me gently down to rest.
Make room! make room!
Now climbing heav'n's stupend'ous steep,
We view the Empyrean height;
Now o'er the smooth meridian sweep,
The earth below too small for sight;
Now down the blue concave descending again,
Impetu'us we drive to the western main:
While at every crash,
Of the thundering lash,
As we whirl along, the zodiac round
Replies to the stroke, and ecchoes the sound.
Bless me! oh, how am I oppress'd?
Soft, lay me gently down to rest.
Chorus.
Her wits return; ye pow'rs! restore,
And yield her to herself once more.
Clytie, the slaves laying her on the ground.
And yield her to herself once more.
At some tall mountain's hoary feet,
With shelving rocks and trees o'erhung,
Whose head incessant tempests beat,
And ravens pester all day long;
Let me—where slow meander steers
Its course, upon the banks reclin'd,
Augment the water with my tears,
And with my sighs increase the wind.
With shelving rocks and trees o'erhung,
Whose head incessant tempests beat,
And ravens pester all day long;
Let me—where slow meander steers
Its course, upon the banks reclin'd,
Augment the water with my tears,
And with my sighs increase the wind.
| Leucothoe | |