328 THE POEMS OF ANNE �So gazes on the low descending Sun, �The traveller, whose journeys yett not done, �Follows the latest beam, with eager sight, �That gone, persue's his way, sad, as prevailing night. �[Exit, the scene shutts. Lauredan, enter to him Clarilla �Laur. Oh ! you are come most happily Clarilla, For grown impatient of a longer stay My love had urg'd me to some new attempt, Again to seek the presence of my Queen. Tell me, had I offended in my zeal, For ore our strongest hopes, still fears will rise, And claim their turn, to sway the Lover's bosome. �Clar. I think my lord 'twas better you forbore, And still, you must support a longer absence, �Laur. Oh! say not so, repeat itt not Clarilla. 10 �Is this, the promis'd happynesse, you bring, For which I gave up pleasures in possession, Dearer then life, and high, as Love cou'd make them. Or was itt but a dream, and now awak'd, The Queen, the lovely Queen, recalls those hopes, And says, that reason did not guide her speeches. �Clar. Nothing of this, she's still the same my Lord, And sure to tell you more then that were needlesse But 'ere she will determin in your favour, Or readmitt you to her wish'd for presence, 20 �Resolves the Prince of Rhodes, her friend, her refuge, Her better father, as she justly stiles him, Shall be acquainted with the whole design, And she, and that, submitted to his liking. �Laur. I fly Clarilla, to obtain his aid And whilst these hours of form, passe slowly by, Oh lett my love, still dwell upon thy tongue, And plead in gentle terms, for my recalling. ��� �
