Thy lot for theirs, o’er whose dark dreams will hang
The avenging shadows, which the blood-stain’d soul
Doth conjure from the dead!
Raim. Thou’rt right. I would not.
Yet ’tis a weary task to school the heart,
Ere years or griefs have tamed its fiery spirit
Into that still and passive fortitude,
Which is but learn’d from suffering. Would the hour
To hush these passionate throbbings were at hand!
Ans. It will not be to-day. Hast thou not heard