That, but that I have shared my sister’s grief,
I had not known what pain and sorrow are—
Yet even this calm rest—this changeless peace,
Saps my poor fragile fabric day by day,
And the first shaft that sorrow aims at it,
May shake its puny structure to the ground!
Hil. Why, what sad silly fancy’s this, Vavir?
Thou hast no pain, my child?
Vav.No pain, indeed;
But a calm happiness so strangely still,