I wish
Victorian
would come.
Longfellow
Heigho! I wish Victorian were here.
I know not what it is makes me so restless!
(The bird sings. )
Thou little prisoner with thy motley coat,
That from thy vaulted, wiry dungeon singest,
Like thee I am a captive, and, like thee,
I have a gentle jailer. Lack-a-day!
All are sleeping, weary heart!
Thou, thou only sleepless art!
All this throbbing, all this aching,
Evermore shall keep thee waking,
For a heart in sorrow breaking
Thinketh ever of its smart!
Thou speakest truly, poet! and methinks
More hearts are breaking in this world of ours
Than one would say. In distant villages
And solitudes remote, where winds have wafted
The barbed seeds of love, or birds of passage
Scattered them in their flight, do they take root,
And grow in silence, and in silence perish.
Who hears the falling of the forest leaf?
Or who takes note of every flower that dies?
Heigho!
I wish Victorian would come.
Dolores!
(Turns to lay down her boot and perceives the COUNT. )
Ha!
Lara. Senora, pardon me.
Prec. How's this? Dolores!
Lara. Pardon me--
Prec. Dolores!
Lara. Be not alarmed; I found no one in waiting.
If I have been too bold--
Prec. (turning her back upon him).
