5
A little life still lingers, tho' around me
My aching eyes see naught but leprosy
Of fire and darkness. piercing to my brain.
'Tis lying yonder, glowing bright and red
From my fierce hands; while a great voice resounds
'Tis finished! It is finished!
As that from off the Cross of Calvary,
When darkness fell, and the Temple veil was rent;
My fond heart echoing the great Architect,
Who viewed his work and saw that it was good.
Franz. You have overworked yourself,
There rest; I knew your madness would try you.
Quen. It grows clearer now; were I to die,
Thus-on my work accomplished it might be
The better ending, than to live unthanked:
Unworthy! fallen! fallen! never risen.
Franz. Come gather strength, recall your courage; I feared you would fail.
Quen. (springing up) Go write me failed upon to-morrows
Then it will brand itself into my soul. [sands;
But now let this small triumph live out all,
It's little breath unchecked–the moths first flight
About the blaze–'tis finished.
Franz. You may be fortunate by happy chance.
Quen. No, no, impossible! wake not that dream;
Such future knows no chance save that of merit,
And I unfriended–young–untutored–rash:
Oh no there is no hope, but hide that now.
Have you planned all?
Franz. All's safe; myself will swear it. Now to rest.
Quen. No! you stay here. I'll lay me by the fire.
Franz. Tush! I'm fond of fire, and you shall not have it; stay you here. Watch dogs are sometimes honest–that is if fed–so I'll attack your larder.
Quen. You will find little there; how can I thank you for all your kindness.
Franz. Not by words. Give me a purse and prove it.
Quen. Would that I could: ah I anything but that.
Franz. There sleep secure; I pledge you my honour to see all things safe.
(outside) And I may as well warn you that I've locked the door; I'll let you out in the morning, so goodnight.
Quen. Goodnight kind traitor. And so I must rest:
Waiting, tho' never yet did waiting seem
Wisdom to youth or love. The stars grow pale,
And somewhere in the distance sleeps my love:
All's in the distance–Hope, and Fame and Love,
In deepest darkness–but the day is near,
And tho' it bring defeat, despair, or death,
It cannot rob me of this little rest,
So very dearly won. (Drops on the couch and sleeps)
