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That, when the leafy spring is near,
The brimming avalanche vaults sheer
Over our heads, and we lie clear
As in the hollow of a fall.
Brand.
The sun we never see at all.
Agnes.
Oh, yet he dances warm and bright
Atop yon mountain that we face.
Brand.
For three weeks, true,—at summer's height,—
But never struggles to its base!
Agnes.
[Looks fixedly at him, rises and says.]
Brand, there's <g>one</g> thought at which you shrink.
Brand.
No, <g>you</g>!
Agnes.
No, you!
Brand.
Within you bear
A secret terror.
Agnes.
Which you share!
Brand.
You reel as from a dizzy brink!
Out with it! speak it out!
Agnes.
'Tis true
I've trembled, whiles [Hesitates
