A call to life or summons to the grave.
[She goes to the window.]
And yet what childish fears are these! How oft
Hath not my Asdolf boldest feats achieved
And aye returned, unharmed and beautiful!
Yes, beautiful, alas! like this cold flower
That proudly glances on the frosty pane.
Short is the violet's, short the cowslip's spring;--
The frost-flowers live far longer: cold as they
The beautiful should be, that it may share