The rose leaves strewn beneath them.

Adah.‍And his lips, too,

How beautifully parted! No; you shall not

Kiss him, at least not now: he will awake soon—

His hour of mid-day rest is nearly over;

But it were pity to disturb him till

'Tis closed.

Cain.‍You have said well; I will contain

My heart till then. He smiles, and sleeps!—sleep on,

And smile, thou little, young inheritor