 | Zenobia |  |
63
SCENE X.
Æglealone.
Ah me! too true—My passion far exceeds
The bounds of pity—Hapless, hapless Ægle!
To what would'st thou pretend? Thy thoughts are rais'd
To objects far above thee.—Heaven has doom'd
A cottage for thy dwelling: quench such flames
As only suit the torch of splendid loves.
If this thou canst not do—at least suppress
The conscious fire within, and waste in silence.
The bounds of pity—Hapless, hapless Ægle!
To what would'st thou pretend? Thy thoughts are rais'd
To objects far above thee.—Heaven has doom'd
A cottage for thy dwelling: quench such flames
As only suit the torch of splendid loves.
If this thou canst not do—at least suppress
The conscious fire within, and waste in silence.
What greater anguish can I feel?
When he I love is nigh;
I sigh, but ah! I dare not tell
That 'tis for him I sigh.
When he I love is nigh;
I sigh, but ah! I dare not tell
That 'tis for him I sigh.
My feeble powers no more suffice
My sufferings to sustain;
Nor yet, alas! my heart supplies
The courage to complain.
My sufferings to sustain;
Nor yet, alas! my heart supplies
The courage to complain.
[Exit.
| Zenobia | |