Would that to-morrow's crowds might find the earth,
Treacherous as they, give way beneath them all,
And, with one gape of its devouring jaws,

Swallow them quick. 'Twill come, or soon or late,
The flame, the sword, and mighty desolation.
The Goth shall trample where your gardens flourish'd
Scattering your children like the weeds they grew.
Vivia. O Christ, who wept over Jerusalem!

Vivius. Weep thou, and for thine own-no longer thine-
(Of little heed). Let me but have the power
To fix these loosen'd wits, I'll make of him
One, who would turn thy love into a curse.

Hope quickens with the thought-there's much to do:
Time narrows in, and I stay here! Away!
Thascius shall be a conqueror—shall hew
His path through this thy faith. Thou sacrifice
Hast chosen ;-mark me! sacrifice shall be
His very end of life; his highest triumph

Won by the sword; and Fame, with crimson hands,
Shall steep in blood the wreath that crowns his brow.
Away! away!

Vivia.

Cæcilius! follow him!

My hope lives in thee, as thou wert Christ's angel.
To-morrow, at the last, bring me thy tidings.

Cæcil. To-morrow!

Vivia. Speak not word (nor look) to mar

My trust in thee.

My trust, O God! in thee!

She kneels.

So sure, I have no words that come as prayer.
Thou who dost all things well, shall I of thee
Crave other than thou dost? And, blessed Christ,
'Twas thou who badest us visit in their need
The widow and the fatherless, I know
Thou wilt take pity on a childless father.

Thou, the good Shepherd, who didst gently fold
Those little ones, with blessing, in thine arms,

Exit.

Wilt care for him, my tender one-my yearling,
Else all bereft.-One prayer-but one-the last :
That in the final hours of this frail life,

With love and praise triumphant over all,
We may show forth thy glory, blessed Lord!
Now to my rest. Not yet a little while.

GERALD GRIFFIN.

1803-1840.

GISIPPUS.

FULVIUS and SOPHRONIA have been lovers. FULVIUS away, and believed to be false, SOPHRONIA, urged by her brother MEDON, consents to marry GISIPPUS, the friend of FULVIUS, GISIPPUS not knowing of the previous affection. FULVIUS appears on their wedding-day, and speaking with SOPHRONIA, each learns the other's truth. They are overheard by GISIPPUS.

Sophronia. Nay! look not thus dejected, Fulvius!

Think that it is our fate which masters us,

And strive against it firmly!

Fulvius.

Alas, Sweetest!

You counsel me in vain. Do not despise me,

That I am wanting in that stern command

Of natural feeling, and that scorn of circumstance,
That shields the breast of Gisippus.

Gisippus (not seen).
My friend!

Ha! torture!

Well put,

This is the friend, the bridegroom's friend

Fulvius. Do not envy me the luxury

Of yielding to the pressure of my fortune!

The heart is not mechanical, nor owns

The empire of the will.

It is the universal law of Nature

That where the hand of suffering presses hard
Complaint should follow. There is a relief
In the abandonment of utter sorrow,
That only sufferers know.

Sophronia.

Weak sufferers, Fulvius!
The unreasoning slaves of impulse and excitement.
Would you depress your nature to the level

Of mindless-nay! even of inanimate things?
The plant unwater'd droops; but man should meet
The malice of his fate with firmer carriage.
Alas! look on the life of the happiest here!
What is it but a war of human pride
With human suffering?-the mind, the soul,
In arms against the heart; their ally, reason,
Forcing the aching wretch to suffer greatly
And own no influence of Fate. What! still
Unmann'd at parting? Pray you, Fulvius!
Resolve me this!

Fulvius.

Sophronia.

What is it you ask?

Suppose,

I do but dream now while I speak of this,-
But say that it were possible our loves
Might yet be favour'd!

Beware, young Roman!
But, suppose

I speak this as a dreamer.

Gisippus, who you know is very worthy

And loves you as a friend

Fulvius.

But ill requited him.

Sophronia.

Alas! I've proved that,

I pray you hear me.

Suppose your friend should give me back the promise

That I have plight-O, most unwillingly!—

And leave me free to make my own election,

Wrong or dishonour set apart?

Fulvius. We should pale the front,

The Afric front of Night with revel lights,
And tire her echoes with our laughter.

Sophronia.

And Gisippus would laugh too!

Fulvius.

Sophronia.

Ay !

Ha!

He'd be

The loudest reveler amongst us. Ay!
We should be famed in story too: the best,
The truest friends, self-sacrificers! O!
Our monuments should be the memories
Of every virtuous breast. While Gisippus
Might find his own dark tomb and die forgotten!
Fulvius. What mean you?
Sophronia.

Cast aside that dull respect

Of fair opinion and the world's esteem,

Which is the death of many a happiness,

You are for Rome ?-Our fate is in our hands.
The world may call it perjury in me,

In you foul treachery; but we can live
Without the world's approval-can we not?
And laugh at self-reproach too?

Fulvius.

Sweetest warner! Mine honour is not dead, though it hath slept. What would you do?

Sophronia.

I'd wake that worthiness
Within you which I know you own. O Fulvius!
You now may see how dearly I have loved you,
Since I had rather lose you-ay! my first

Old idolized affection, than behold you
Second to any in your own esteem.

Fulvius. In yours, and Virtue's, never! Do not fear it!
I came to take my last farewell, Sophronia!
Come, I can throw my helm upon my brow,
And shake my crest upon the battle-field,
And bare my bright steel with a grasp as firm

As his whose arm is nerved by glory's zeal,
Not by the madness of a broken heart.
An honourable cause, a fiery onset,

A peal of war, a-hush! one thought of thee,
And there's an end of Fulvius and his love!

Gisippus (apart). That speech was like ye, Roman!
Sophronia.
O now you are
The gallant soul you have been, and shall be
The cherish'd memory of my heart. O Fulvius !
It is a sullen fortune that subdues us;

But we have trifled with her early smiles,

And now must strive against her hate. Farewell!
Forget me, and be happy!

Fulvius.

It must be

My solace to remember you, Sophronia!
But only as a rightful sacrifice

To honour and to friendship. Dear Sophronia!
Let me be careful of his peace to whom

The Gods have given you now. He knows not yet

Of our affection. Let him never know it.
Time, absence, and the change of circumstance,
May wear me from your memory-Never droop
Your head to hear it!-and you may yet be
To Gisippus all-but away with that!
Farewell at once, for ever!

They are separating, when GISIPPUS comes forward.

Gisippus. Stay, Sophronia!
Sophronia.
Ha! we are lost.
Gisippus. Lost! How? why? wherefore? Lady!
You, Fulvius! too. Look on me calmly, Roman!
You've known me long, beheld me in all changes,
And read my spirit in its nakedness.

In what part of my life have I betray'd

A mean or selfish nature? Ay! that gesture
Would tell me-Never. Wherefore am I then
So worthless of your confidence I must