If the world will be mended on his principles, well. If
not, poor world!--but principles must be carried out, though through
blood and famine: for truly, man was made for theories, not
theories for man. A doctrine is these men's God--touch but that
shrine, and lo! your simpering philanthropist becomes as ruthless as
a Dominican. [Exit.]
SCENE IX
Elizabeth's bower. Elizabeth and Lewis sitting together.
Song
Eliz. Oh that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing
In the shade of the whispering trees!
Oh that we two sat dreaming
On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down
Watching the white mist steaming
Over river and mead and town!
Oh that we two lay sleeping
In our nest in the churchyard sod,
With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast,
And our souls at home with God!
Lewis. Ah, turn away those swarthy diamonds' blaze!
Mine eyes are dizzy, and my faint sense reels
In the rich fragrance of those purple tresses.
Oh, to be thus, and thus, day after day!
To sleep, and wake, and find it yet no dream--
My atmosphere, my hourly food, such bliss
As to have dreamt of, five short years agone,
Had seemed a mad conceit.
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