Britain ... - Blue-Lite

126 THE DEVOTED ONE. [Act I.
Whose rugged brows the thunder deeply scars :
But humble worth, like the low valley, lies
Sheltered from storms, with silent streams made glad,
And rich in virtue's roseate fruits and flowers.
GODWIN.
What ! shall I dwell in these inglorious shades
A forester, a swineherd all my life,
And perish on the spot which gave me birth ?
Be like the stagnant pool amid the forest,
Which rotting weeds o'ermantle, and the toad
And tadpole make their home ? No ; let my course
Be like the mountain cataract in its strength,
With strife still onward dashing, which no rocks
Can bar or hinder ;
while my fame shines out,
As gleams that torrent's rainbow to the sun. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. A Room in the Cottage of Wulfnoth.
Enter Wulfnoth and Godwin.
WULFNOTH.
So, thou wilt leave me, Godwin ?
GODWIN.
Ay, my soul
Is wearied with these dull unchanging scenes.
WULFNOTH.
And leave poor Edith, too, thou truant boy,
To follow this lone stranger, this dark chief
Of Danish blood ? to follow the wild bent
Of thy determined will, the beckoning forms
And airy visions of thy heated brain,
Distempered
with ambition ?
GODWIN.
Didst thou know,
My much-loved father, how my life has past