Britain ... - Blue-Lite

124? THE DEVOTED ONE. [Act I.
Their bright enchantments of delusion shed ?
I shall be jealous soon. The saints amend thee !
GODWIN.
I in this forest no communion hold
With any spirit
half so heavenly fair
As thou, my Edith, art. The queen of elves
Looks not so lovely in her moonlit pomp
As thou dost, with those wild flowers in thy locks,
When on me fondly smiling.
EDITH.
now ?
Dear Godwin, dreaming
GODWIN.
Art thou not,
No, 'tis reality, and real all
Those dreams of greatness, mocked by thee so oft ;
For I am hither come to bid farewell
To Edith and these gloomy solitudes,
For camps and splendid courts.
EDITH.
Farewell,
And wilt thou leave thy Edith, and these shades
Where all is peace, and melody, and love,
For palace-halls in which grim Envy dwells,
And Murder lurks to dye his knife in blood ?
saidst thou ?
Leave these green bowers, steeped in the glittering hues
Of summer suns, where breathes the violet air
In all its early freshness, and the voice
Of the love-speaking turtle still is heard ?
Wilt thou leave these for noisy midnight camps,
For battle-fields, for danger, wounds, and death ?
GODWIN.
Ay, will I, girl, and triumph in th1 exchange.
I hate these woodland scenes of idle dulness,