Classic Poem

Act I. Scene I. An Inn.

Enter Lord Clarence & D'Auville

D'Auville
My Lord, indulge not unavailing grief;
All may be well; thy son may yet exist,
And years of happiness to come
Reward thee for thy many sorrows past — L.C.

Oh! Tell not me of happiness!
My ears are unaccustomed to the sound
I once indeed possessed the heavenly gift;
But Oh! twas but to feel its loss more great
Its very shadow has deserted me
D'Auville thou hast never yet fully learned
The fatal causes of thy friend's distress;
And tho' the sad recital gives me pain,
'Twill ease my heart to share its griefs with thee. D.A.

Would you could give me all,
For you too long have borne the heavy load;
Despair, too long, has sat upon thy brow;
Too long has chid the least approach of hope — L.C.

When you have heard my wretched story
You will judge how much I've cause to mourn —
The lovely Julia first enslaved my heart,
The Daughter of a Nobleman of Lisbon.
Her noble race, and wealth, tho' powerful
Appeared to me, as far beneath herself.
As tapers burning in the brilliant day;
I loved, And (Oh. transporting thought)
I was beloved —
Her father kindly gave her to my arms:
Oh! I shall ne'er forget the blissful hour
That joined our hands and made the Angel mine —
A rapid year passed on in perfect bliss;
Then heaven gave an Infant to my arms;
Each youthful grace adorned the lovely boy;
Forgive a father's fondness — D'A.

Go on my Lord, I long to hear,
What unforeseen event,
Could cause so great a change — L.C.

Another year rolled on
Blessed as the former,
And then, another son, his mother's image,
Clung to my happy heart —
I heard at length, the tidings of my father's death;
I wished to visit once again my native realm —
Julia, and my Theodore embarked
In the first vessel, which for England sailed;
Oh fatal rashness, why did we ever part?
For then at least we might have died together
Britain they ne'er were destined to behold
The ship was lost amidst the merciless waves
And in the Ocean all my hopes were sunk — D'A.

Say not all my Lord,
You had yet one comfort left. L.C.

My son, you mean? —
Oh! no
My Frederick too was severed from my arms;
With him, I mournfully embarked;
Almost wishing that another storm
Would, Once again unite me to my Julia —
Another lot, fate had decreed for us;
Our ship became the Conquest of the Moors,
And we Ourselves their slaves: —
The monsters deaf to all a father's prayers
Tore the helpless infant from my arms;
Nor have I ever since beheld my Boy;
Ten dismal years of slavery rolled on —
At length a country man,
Enslaved as well as I, escaped,
And with a generosity scarce ever found
But in a Briton's soul,
Obtained my ransom —
For six years more I vainly sought my child
And now, heart-broken, childless, in despair,
I have returned to die among my friends — D'A.

Since you have dismissed all earthly hope,
Yet there is consolation;
No guilt of yours hath caused your sufferings,
And Heaven will in joy drown the despair,
Which it has doomed to be on earth they share —
Exeunt