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As crown of glory for my dreamy days
And lonely nights of rapture at your shrine
From my life's ending, let me wake a star!
Not in the throng of undistinguish'd lights
Crowding the stair of that triumphal way,
Which sweeps straight on to your serene abodes.
My planet spin through else unlighted space,
That as I lived on earth, so still in Heaven,
Your taper-tending watchful minister
May yet, a little lamp in leagues of light
Shine to your glory.
(Asclepiades leads on Theonöe half-fainting from the Temple.)
Asclepiades:
So Theonöe,
Breathe deeply of the fresh free air of Heaven,
From your distracted dream awakening,
Shudder you back to anguish'd life again.
