IN THE GARDEN.
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* * * * _Elsie._ I have one thing to ask of you. _Prince Henry._ What is it?It is already granted. _Elsie._ Promise me,When we are gone from here, and on our wayAre journeying to Salerno, you will not,By word or deed, endeavor to dissuade meAnd turn me from my purpose, but rememberThat as a pilgrim to the Holy CityWalks unmolested, and with thoughts of pardonOccupied wholly, so would I approachThe gates of Heaven, in this great jubilee,With my petition, putting off from meAll thoughts of earth, as shoes from off my feet.Promise me this. _Prince Henry._ Thy words fall from thy lipsLike roses from the lips of Angelo: and angelsMight stoop to pick them up! _Elsie._ Will you not promise? _Prince Henry._ If ever we depart upon this journey,So long to one or both of us, I promise. _Elsie._ Shall we not go, then? Have you lifted meInto the air, only to hurl me backWounded upon the ground? and offered meThe waters of eternal life, to bid meDrink the polluted puddles of this world? _Prince Henry._ O Elsie! what a lesson thou dost teach me!The life which is, and that which is to come,Suspended hang in such nice equipoiseA breath disturbs the balance; and that scaleIn which we throw our hearts preponderates,And the other, like an empty one, flies up,And is accounted vanity and air!To me the thought of death is terrible,Having such hold on life. To thee it is notSo much even as the lifting of a latch;Only a step into the open airOut of a tent already luminousWith light that shines through its transparent walls!O pure in heart! from thy sweet dust shall growLilies, upon whose petals will be written"Ave Maria" in characters of gold!
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