Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/172

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The bronze cast fair to the heart's desire,
The sweet song fashion'd of tears and fire
No languid string and no jarring wire,
Where no hands tire, no voices break!

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Yves:

Thank you, sweet Lady, for your silver song.
We at the noon of this sweet Summer's day
Told of our aspirations and desires,
And you have wound them in a melody
And show'd us there the Beauty that we crav'd
And fairer than we deem'd it.


Peregrina:

So young sir,
Men still love Beauty?


Yves:

Ease and wealth and power
Men for the most part follow, but a few,