What further shred invests the love so stript!—
Is this, then, being freed from earth?—Yet where
Are signs of heaven?—My God, I see them not.”
“O father, rave not thus,” I cried. “O if—
If Haydn,—if I had some power with him.”—
“Nay, daughter, nay,” he said. Yet o’er his face
Flush’d hope like hues at dawn. I kiss’d his brow,
Said, “Father, I will try,” and went my way.
XLVIII.
And Haydn then, when found, appear’d so sad.