But whence, my fair philosopher, thy lore,
Hath God bestowed such deep laid knowledge on
A light and playsome girl, whose pranks and wiles
Have quite bewitched my would-be firmer soul.
Methinks thou singest well to-night; adieu,
And may pure angels bring thee radiant dreams.
Scene III. An Evening in Summer. A Garden.—Lover alone, and reading a book.
A tale of happy love! 'Tis like my fate.
Two youthful beings, yearning each for love,
Met by a haunted stream, with ivied banks,