Went forth like one half-craz'd.

 Adel. Oh good, kind father!

   There is a charm in holy eloquence

   (If words can medicine a pang like this)

   Perhaps may sooth her. Sighs, and trickling tears,

   Are all my love can give. As I kneel by her,

   She gazes on me, clasps me to her bosom;

   Cries out, My child! my child! then, rising quick,

   Severely lifts her streaming eyes to heaven;

   Laughs wildly, and half sounds my father's name;

   Till, quite o'erpower'd, she sinks from my embrace,

   While, like the grasp of death, convulsions shake her.

 Aust. Remorseless man! this wound would reach her heart,

[pg 41]

[pg 41]

   And when she falls, his last, best prop, falls with her,

   And see, the beauteous mourner moves this way:

   Time has but little injur'd that fair fabric;

   But cruelty's hard stroke, more fell than time,

   Works at the base, and shakes it to the centre.

 Prev. P 65/106 next