The shadows are around me: to thy heart
Fold me, that I may die.
Elm. My child! what dream
Is on thy soul? Even now thine aspect wears
Life’s brightest inspiration!
Xim. Death’s!
Elm. Away!
Thine eye hath starry clearness; and thy cheek
Doth glow beneath it with a richer hue,
Than tinged its earliest flower!