Adel. Oh good, kind father!
There is a charm in holy eloquence
(If words can medicine a pang like this)
Perhaps may sooth her. Sighs, and trickling tears,
Are all my love can give. As I kneel by her,
She gazes on me, clasps me to her bosom;
Cries out, My child! my child! then, rising quick,
Severely lifts her streaming eyes to heaven;
Laughs wildly, and half sounds my father's name;
Till, quite o'erpower'd, she sinks from my embrace,