W. S. Gilbert,
Original Plays, Second Series
“ Hilda rushes to her, as they place her on the ground, near the sun-dial. Florian kneels by her, and takes her hand.Hil. Vavir, my love—my gentle sister. See,He loves thee—Florian loves thee! He is hereTo tell thee this—to call thee back to life.Come at his call! The earth is bright for thee.See how he loves thee. Oh, Vavir, come back! Vav. (very faintly) . It is too late—too late! I feel the handOf Death upon my heart. So let it be.My day is spent—my tale is nearly told! Hil. Vavir—Vavir!Have pity on us! Gentle little soul,Fly not to thine appointed Heaven—not yet—Not yet—not yet! ”
