Raymond. earest, that sit'st in dreams, Through the window look, this way. How changed and desolate seems The world, Ida, to-day! Heavy and low the sky is glooming: Winter is coming! Ida. My dreaming heart is stirr'd: Sadly the winter comes! The wind is loud: how weird, Heard in these darken'd rooms! Speak to me, Raymond; ease this dread: I am afraid, afraid. [18] Raymond. Love, what is this? Like snow Thy cheeks feel, snow they wear. What ails my darling so? What is it thou dost hear?
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