And by their deep strong roots torn fiercely up
Things that were part of it—inborn feelings, thoughts—
I know not what I cling to!
Rai. Aymer! yet
Heaven hath not closed its gates! Return, return,
Before the shadow of the palm-tree fades
I’ the waning moonlight. Heaven gives time.
Return,
My brother! By our early days—the love
That nurtured us!—the holy dust of those