In that kind, useful breast! Oh! now no more!
But strengthen me, my God! and melt my heart,
Even to a well-spring of adoring tears,
For many a blessing left.
(Bending over the child.) Once more, farewell!
Oh, the pale, piercing sweetness of that look!
How can it be sustain’d? Away, away!
(After a short pause.)
Edmund! my woman’s nature still is weak—
I cannot see thee render dust to dust!