University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

To Imogen Leonatus.
They run and embrace.
Imog.
My lord, my every love, my Leonatus—
Thou world of Imogen, who dost comprize
Whatever nature, in her various round,
Can cull of good—thou fullness of my soul,
At once the source, and the satiety,
Of all my wishes!—
O, we must sever—we must part, my love,
As in the last vain gaspings after life,
When soul and body sunder!

Leon.
O bower of bliss, on whom eternal spring
Hath lavish'd all its fragrance, sayst thou, part?—
To part with thee, in life or death, were worse
Than all the gather'd heap of mortal ills,
That life or death can threaten.

Imog.
All is over—
All is discover'd, sweet, and we must part!
If Heaven has joy, within the seeds of time,
For truth, and faith, and infinite endearment,
Then we must meet again!—Away, away—
Even while I, thus, would cling to thee for ever,
My fears, that one look more may prove our last,
Turn me to frenzy!—While we talk, the storm
Comes on apace; and, ere one fond adieu,
May break upon thy head!

Leon.
Let us haste, then,
And, glutton-like, at one short meal, devour
Our hoard of promis'd bliss—Come to my arms!—
O thus, for ever thus, that I might hold thee—
Wrap thy existence inward to my soul,
Even as the clasping rind contains and folds
The fragrance of the cedar!