Look up, O Pharamond! canst thou see aught about thee?
KING PHARAMOND
Yea, surely: all things as aforetime I saw them:
The mist fading out with the first of the sunlight,
And the mountains a-changing as oft in my dreaming,
And the thornbrake anigh blossomed thick with the May-tide.
[Music again.
O my heart!—I am hearkening thee whereso thou wanderest!
LOVE
Put forth thine hand, feel the dew on the daisies!
KING PHARAMOND
So their freshness I felt in the days ere hope perished.
—O me, me, my darling! how fair the world groweth!
Ah, shall I not find thee, if death yet should linger,
Else why grow I so glad now when life seems departing?
What pleasure thus pierceth my heart unto fainting?
—O me, into words now thy melody passeth.