II. Sweet kerchief, check'd with heavenly blue, Which once my love sat knotting in!-- Alas! Matilda THEN was true! At least I thought so at the U-- --niversity of Gottingen-- --niversity of Gottingen. [At the repetition of this line ROGERO clanks his chains in cadence.] III. Barbs! Barbs! alas! how swift you flew Her neat post-wagon trotting in! Ye bore Matilda from my view; Forlorn I languish'd at the U-- --niversity of Gottingen-- --niversity of Gottingen. IV. This faded form! this pallid hue! This blood my veins is clotting in, My years are many--they were few When first I entered at the U-- --niversity of Gottingen-- --niversity of Gottingen. V. There first for thee my psssion grew, Sweet! sweet Matilda Pottingen! Thou wast the daughter of my tu-- --tor, law professor at the U-- --niversity at Gottingen-- --niversity of Gottingen. VI. Sun, moon and thou, vain world, adieu, That kings and priests are plotting in; Here doom'd to starve on water gru-- --el, never shall I see the U-- --niversity of Gottingen-- --niversity of Gottingen. [During the last stanza ROGERO dashes his head repeatedly against the walls of his prison; and, finally, so hard as to produce a visible contusion; he then throws himself on the floor in an agony. The curtain drops; the music still continuing to play till it is wholly fallen.] THE AMATORY SONNETS OF ABEL SHUFFLEBOTTOM. ROBERT SOUTHEY. I. DELIA AT PLAY. She held a CUP AND BALL of ivory white, LESS WHITE the ivory than her snowy hand! Enrapt, I watched her from my secret stand, As now, intent, in INNOCENT delight, Her taper fingers twirled the giddy ball, Now tost it, following still with EAGLE SIGHT, Now on the pointed end INFIXED its fall. Marking her sport I mused, and musing sighed. Methought the BALL she played with was my HEART; (Alas! that sport like THAT should be her pride!) And the KEEN POINT which steadfast still she eyed Wherewith to pierce it, that was Cupid's DART; Shall I not then the cruel Fair condemn Who ON THAT DART IMPALES my BOSOM'S GEM? II. THE POET PROVES THE EXISTENCE OF A SOUL FROM HIS LOVE FOR DELIA. Some have denied a soul! THEY NEVER LOVED. Far from my Delia now by fate removed, At home, abroad, I view her everywhere: HER ONLY in the FLOOD OF NOON I see, My GODDESS-MAID, my OMNIPRESENT FAIR. FOR LOVE ANNIHILATES THE WORLD TO ME! And when the weary SOL AROUND HIS BED CLOSES THE SABLE CURTAINS OF THE NIGHT, SUN OF MY SLUMBERS, on my dazzled sight She shines confest. When EVERY SOUND IS DEAD, The SPIRIT OF HER VOICE comes then to ROLL The surge of music o'er my wavy brain. Far, far from her my BODY drags its chain, But sure with Delia I EXIST A SOUL! III. THE POET EXPRESSES HIS FEELINGS RESPECTING A PORTRAIT IN DELIA'S PARLOR.