Britain ... - Blue-Lite

122 THE DEVOTED ONE. [Act I.
ULFMANDO.
To me thou seem'st,
Like the strong eaglet, born to soar above
Thy forest eyrie, and a spirit shines
In thy dark eye with most prophetic beams
Of gallant daring ; gentle is thy phrase,
And from thy tongue flows native eloquence
Might shame our courtly chiefs. My forest-boy,
I cannot choose, but trust thee fearlessly.
GODWIN.
And I would rather die, than thou shouldst find
Cause to repent thy trusting.
ULFMANDO.
Forward, then.
Thou shalt be held in honour by the king.
GODWIN.
Propitious Heaven ! the day is come at last,
That gives me earnest of those dreams which haunt
The slumbers of my couch. Farewell ye woods
And gloomy shades, and ye wild birds farewell !
I shall your simple minstrelsy exchange
For courtly harp and war-proclaiming trump.
Farewell ye flocks and herds, a long farewell
To my poor father's home ! The world, the bright,
The blissful, stirring world, is now before me,
For which so oft I on these primrose banks
Have sat me down in bitter
spite and wept.
Speed to the ocean, thou slow-toiling sun !
I, at thy setting, like the young moon, shall
Begin to rise in glory.
[Exeunt.