Britain ... - Blue-Lite

Scene III.] THE DEVOTED ONE. 155
Our native land to follow Denmark's King,
The fatal sign was fixt upon my brow;
And wheresoever I moved, respect and awe
From the Sclavonians met me, as if I
Were the strange offspring of some fearful god,
A being nor of earth, or heaven, or hell,
Till from my very self I shrunk in dread,
And wished the hour were come.
ERMINGILD.
To-morrow, then,
At night's dark noon, that destined hour arrives
When thou, my noble son, shalt be received
Among the gods thyself a ! god and find
In brighter worlds, above the strife and coil
Of human passions,
thine eternal home.
Ah !
WALDIMAll.
this hath been a dreary world to me,
In which, from childhood, I have never known
Kind fellowship, or sympathy, or love :
If other worlds hereafter I may find,
Darker they cannot be.
ERMINGILD.
O, thou wilt float
On the resplendent meteor, and thy steed
Shall be the rainbow of the summer skies,
Chasing the shower o'er climes where ever bloom
Roses of damask hue. Then shalt thou dwell
In those refulgent palace-halls, that burn
With sunlit gems, and gold, and diamond fires
Amid the western heavens at eve-tide hour ;
And in those cloud-isles wander where the groves,
All blent with ruby dome and gate of pearl,
Their emerald light o'er flowers immortal shed,