Damon:
Pooh! foolish?--thou wast then so very wise
That, often having seen thee foolish since,
Wonder has made me faint that thou shouldst err.
Cydilla:
Nay, then I erred, dear Damon; and remorse
Was not so slow to find me as thou deemst.
Damon:
There, mop those dear wet eyes, or thou'lt ne'er hear
What it was filled my heart full yesterday.
Cydilla:
Tell, Damon; since I well know that regrets
Hang like dull gossips round another's ear.
Damon:
First, thou must know that oftentimes I rise,--
Not heeding or not finding sleep, of watching
Afraid no longer to be prodigal,--
And gaze upon the beauty of the night.
Quiet hours, while dawn absorbs the waning stars,
Are like cold water sipped between our cups
Washing the jaded palate till it taste
The wine again. Ere the sun rose, I sat
Within my garden porch; my lamp was left
Burning beside my bed, though it would be
Broad day before I should return upstairs.
I let it burn, willing to waste some oil
Rather than to disturb my tranquil mood;
But, as the Fates determined, it was seen.
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