Ant. Is it thus
That thou returnest? and is this the hour
Desired so long!
Car. O ye afflicted ones!
Heaven knows I dread its pangs for you alone.
Long have my thoughts been used to look on Death,
And calmly wait his time. For you alone
My soul hath need of firmness; will ye, then,
Deprive me of its aid? When the Most High
On virtue pours afflictions, he bestows