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Neptune's Isle and Other Plays for Children.

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Pages: 38

Language: English

Book format: An electronic version of a printed book that can be read on a computer or handheld device designed specifically for this purpose.

Publisher: General Books LLC (31 Jan. 2012)

By: John Jay Chapman (Author)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1911. Excerpt: ... A sort of nun or convent waiting-maid, One whom I thought to ask, and then I lost her. But she comes again,--An angel walks across the stage and goes into the church. Wilfred is about to speak to her, but does not.) A very decent person--I spoke not Because she wore some business on her brow That robed her looks in action. Some good deed Shone in her face and rolled before her feet, As rolls the wave before Aurora's tread, Purple yet arrowed through with Phoebus' shots, Thick-falling from the god behind the dawn. A nun, no doubt, and this a nunnery. (He sits a moment in contemplation, then rises slowly, draws his sword, and plants it, hilt up, a little toward the back of the stage. He kneels before the sword on both knees, his hands clasped stiffly before him, his helmet beside him, like a crusader. Enter Thekla and Dio. Thekla is a child of twelve, on crutches: she is dressed in a tattered shawl. Dio is a child of three. They have some roadside flowers.) Thekla Hold them tighter, Dio,--thus,--both hands. Dear father Leo wants them for his cell: The picture wants them, where the candles are, And all the stony men who stand so still, To watch us in the chapel. Saints love flowers, A And flowers, though they be weeds, are baby's friends. No, I say! Hold them so!--What ails the child? He was so good, he grew so well again, And seemed so sensible: he grew so wise: The dandelion, buttercup, and clover He would pull up and name them like a book: And yesterday, this sprig of bridal-wreath He found and brought and wound it in my hair: But now he wanders, he is lost again And drops his blossoms! Dio! Baby Dio! Dio. (Holding up his hand.) Hark! Thekla What, baby? Dio Music! Thekla Oh heavens, there is no music! This he doth Before the fit shall seize him. Dio, Dio,...

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