And roused their dreamy intellects with speech:—
ASPHALION.
"They say that soon flit summer-nights away,
Because all lingering is the summer day:
Friend, it is false; for dream on dream have I
Dreamed, and the dawn still reddens not the sky.
How? am I wandering? or does night pass slow?"
HIS COMRADE.
"Asphalion, scout not the sweet summer so.
'Tis not that wilful seasons have gone wrong,