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SIEGE OF VALENCIA.



ELMINA.

Woe! woe! that aught so gentle and so young

Should thus be call'd to stand i' the tempest's path,
And bear the token and the hue of death
On a bright soul so soon! I had not shrunk
From mine own lot, but thou, my child, shouldst move
As a light breeze of heaven, thro' summer-bowers,
And not o'er foaming billows. We are fall'n
On dark and evil days!

XIMENA.

Aye, days, that wake

All to their tasks!—Youth may not loiter now
In the green walks of spring; and womanhood
Is summon'd unto conflicts, heretofore
The lot of warrior-souls. But we will take
Our toils upon us nobly! Strength is born
In the deep silence of long-suffering hearts;
Not amidst joy.

ELMINA.

Hast thou some secret woe

That thus thou speak'st?

XIMENA.

What sorrow should be mine,

Unknown to thee?

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