And Gath and Askalon extinguishing,
And sorrow—and immensity of tears!
[Michal goes to him and takes his hand. He folds her in his arms.]
But we must calm the flowing of this grief.
Though yet we cannot mind us to remember
Love will as sandal-breath and trickling balm
O’erheal us in the unbegotten years,
Too headlong must not be our agony.
Hush now thy woundedness, my Michal, now.
See, o’er the East the lifted wings of dawn.