With him I've traversed many a wild, and look'd
On many a danger; and the thought that thou
Wert smiling then in peace, a happy boy,
Oft thro' the storm hath cheer'd him.
Rai. Dost thou deem
That still he lives?—Oh! if it be in chains,
In woe, in poverty's obscurest cell,
Say but he lives—and I will track his steps
E'en to earth's verge!
Pro.It may be that he lives:
Tho' long his name hath ceased to be a word
Familiar in man's dwellings. But its sound
May yet be heard!—Raimond di Procida,
—Rememberest thou thy father?
Rai.From my mind
His form hath faded long, for years have pass'd
Since he went forth to exile: but a vague,
Yet powerful, image of deep majesty,
Still dimly gathering round each thought of him,
Doth claim instinctive reverence; and my love
For his inspiring name hath long become
Part of my being.
Pro.Raimond! doth no voice
Speak to thy soul, and tell thee whose the arms
That would enfold thee now?—My son! my son!
Rai. Father!—Oh God!—my father! Now I know
Why my heart woke before thee!
Pro.Oh! this hour
Makes hope, reality; for thou art all
My dreams had pictured thee!
