60
INTERLUDES.
Lora:—
"Ah! Laël, love, I pray thee speak not so!
Canst thou not feel the love the angels know?
In the calm nights Orion blazed on high,
You used to watch the ever changing sky,
And wonder if our unit life would be
As fair a page as heaven's scroll to see.
But if one plunges in the joy of sense,
And sears the heart with rapture so intense,
What peace can be when passion's sun is set
And naught is left but darkness and regret?
The fleeting joys of one soft hour of bliss,
Of long embrace, and lust-inspiring kiss
Can these compare with calm, unselfish love,
The highest gift that comes from realms above?"
"Ah! Laël, love, I pray thee speak not so!
Canst thou not feel the love the angels know?
In the calm nights Orion blazed on high,
You used to watch the ever changing sky,
And wonder if our unit life would be
As fair a page as heaven's scroll to see.
But if one plunges in the joy of sense,
And sears the heart with rapture so intense,
What peace can be when passion's sun is set
And naught is left but darkness and regret?
The fleeting joys of one soft hour of bliss,
Of long embrace, and lust-inspiring kiss
Can these compare with calm, unselfish love,
The highest gift that comes from realms above?"
Laël:—
"O Lora! never in this mortal life
Within my breast was waged such burning strife.
"O Lora! never in this mortal life
Within my breast was waged such burning strife.
