Their thickest clouds! but we, from whose dull eyes
A grain of dust hides the great sun—e’en we
Usurp his attributes, and talk, as seers,
Of future joy and grief!
Eri. Thy words are strange.
Yet will I hope that peace at length shall settle
Upon thy troubled heart, and add soft grace
To thy majestic beauty. Fair Vittoria!
Oh! if my cares——
Vit. I know a day shall come