8
Upon his brow; nor stir a trembling leaf:
This is my victory!
Adel. This is enough!
Quen. And when I view my love! my hope!
Adel. Our love! our hope!
Quen. (kissing her) Our love! our hope!
My Adelaide! I cannot tell e'en you,
Beneath the shadow of our mutual vows,
How much I love you; life itself is but
A petty means to that eternal end.
Thou art my soul the purer part of me,
That earth can taint not. (she tries to stop him)
Ah! do let me speak!
It burns within me so, that utterance is
The deepest balm unto my tossing heart.
I pass the days so silent far from thee,
That the thoughts gather like the summer clouds,
Darkening and choking me until they burst
My own control, as love has done before.
Adel. As fierce a fire burns brightly in my breast:
But with the force of my long pent up love,
I'm rendered speechless; for no words could tell
My passion's strength: it is too reverent
Too holy! for poor language, breathing but
In music, or the looks of meeting eyes,
When breath & breath, and thought & thought are one,
And kindled each by each, soul speaks to soul.
Quen. Thy father's frown at the poor blacksmith?
Adel. I have faith in him! The outer crust
Belies his gentle heart–for it is gentle;
And if thou win to-day?
Quen. However high our aim,
To-day is all in all; and he who fails–
But one brief moment in this rudest race–
May lose the labour of his life or love.
Adel. But thou wilt win this or a greater prize:
For thou art wise and noble!
Quen. I thank God
Thou thinkest so sweet flatterer! but yet
This mighty city thronged with eager heads
And practised–hands the noblest votaries
Of other guilds–all flow to this great sea:
And what is one among them?
Adel. One must win.
Quen. Yes! and this weakens o'en Ambition's fire:
The One must triumph–bur the Many fail;
And his glad laugh must sink beneath their wail.
Adel. This selfish strife conducts to noblest ends.
Look round the world: in bird, in beast, in tree;
The greater merit springs above the crowd,
Tho' growing from the bodies of the less
