This page needs to be proofread.
The Phantom.
[Screams.]
Cross not! Deep
Rolls between us the abyss,
Where the mountain-torrents sweep!
[Tenderly.]
Thou dost dream not, neither sleep,
Nor with phantoms wagest war;
Dear, by sickness thou wast wasted,—
Frenzy's bitter cup hast tasted,
Dreamt, thy wife had fled afar.
Brand.
Oh, thou livest! Blessed be!
The Phantom.
[Hastily.]
Peace! Of that no murmur now!
Follow fast, the moments press.
Brand.
Oh, but Alf!
The Phantom.
Alive, no less.
Brand.
Lives!
The Phantom.
And with unfaded brow!
All thy sorrows did but seem!
All thy battles were a dream,
Alf is with thy mother; she
Vigorous yet, and stalwart he;
Still the old Church stands entire;
Pluck it down if thou desire;—
