An angel spirit, spell-bound with delight!
I'll break the spell, for I would see the change
Come over those rapt features.
Azlea. Methought thou wert my father; I knew not
That others visited this lonely place.
I thought that he had come to bid me sing
With him some wild sea-melody; for we
Do often at this hour sit here awhile,
And I sing songs suiting his mood, which he
Accompanies with his great, solemn airs,
That thousands have applauded; but none feel
The music that is in them like himself.
Her. Sweet child! thy father's solemn melodies
Have been infused into thy youthful spirit!
Ere yet I saw thee—hidden from my sight
By the projecting rocks—I heard thy voice
Blending to harmony the mournful sounds
Of sighing winds and waves; and I did think
Some spirit's airy fingers swept a lyre,
Along these echoing shores. And I was right;
'Twas nature's lyre I heard—its thousand strings
Vibrating in thy heart. Wilt sing for me?
Azlea. I seldom sing for any but my father;
But did I know what music suits you best,
I might attempt a single song for you.
Her. The one which you were singing.
Azlea. (Sings.)
Maidens of the bright blue sea,
Dwells love in your crystal caves?
Live ye not right merrily,
