Myr.‍In my native land a God,

And in my heart a feeling like a God's,

Exalted; yet I own 'tis only mortal;430

For what I feel is humble, and yet happy—

That is, it would be happy; but—— [Myrrha pauses.

Sar.‍There comes

For ever something between us and what

We deem our happiness: let me remove

The barrier which that hesitating accent

Proclaims to thine, and mine is sealed.