Seems fading in the dim obscurity
Which gathers round my fortunes.
Con.Must we part?
And is it come to this?—Oh! I have still
Deem'd it enough of joy with thee to share
E'en grief itself—and now—but this is vain;
Alas! too deep, too fond, is woman's love,
Too full of hope, she casts on troubled waves
The treasures of her soul!
Rai.Oh, speak not thus!
Thy gentle and desponding tones fall cold
Upon my inmost heart.—I leave thee but
To be more worthy of a love like thine.
For I have dreamt of fame!—A few short years,
And we may yet be blest.
Con.A few short years!
Less time may well suffice for death and fate
To work all change on earth!—To break the ties
Which early love had form'd; and to bow down
Th' elastic spirit, and to blight each flower
Strewn in life's crowded path!—But be it so?
Be it enough to know that happiness
Meets thee on other shores.
Rai.Where'er I roam
Thou shalt be with my soul!—Thy soft low voice
Shall rise upon remembrance, like a strain
Of music heard in boyhood, bringing back
Life's morning freshness.—Oh! that there should be
Things, which we love with such deep tenderness,
But, through that love, to learn how much of woe
