Languages & literature > Alfred: a masque

18 ALFRED:
Jlf. Heaven f
Then are we b!eft indeed i
Corin. My humble cottage,,
Long ages hence, when we are dull, my friends^
In holy pilgrimage oft villted^
Will draw true English knees to worfhip there,.
As at the fhrine of fome propitious faint,
Or angel friendly to mankind—the thought
Brings tears into mine eyes.
Emma. Does joy deceive
My fenfe ? or did I hear a diftant voice
Sigh thro’ the vale and wake the mournful echo> ?
Thi following fong
is 'Jung by a perfcu urijecn.
L
Te woods and ye mountains unknown,.
Beneath whofe pale shadows I ftray,
'To the breajt of my charmer alone
The/e figbs bidfvjeet echo convey.
Wherever he penfively leans.
By fountain, on hill, or in grove.
His heart will explain what she means?
Who fings both from farrow and love.
Corin. The evening wood-lark warbles in her voice.
Who can this be ?
Emma. Peace, peace : flic tings again.
^ II.
fibre foft than the nightingale's fong?
0 waft the fad found to his ear :
And fay, tho' dividedfo long.
The friend of bis bofom is near.
Thetiftell him what years of delight,
'-'lJ tell him what ages of pain,
J felt while 1 liv'd in his fight !
1 feel till I fee him again ! [Toftnefs
Corin. What think ye, friends: Such moving, melting