He seemed lost in thought. Delia approached
doubtfully, but he heard her not. Advanced near to her object, she
reclined forward in a posture of wonder and attention. At this moment a
sigh burst from the heart of Damon, and he raised himself upon the seat.
His eyes caught the figure of Delia.------"Ah," said he, starting from his
trance, "what do I see? Art thou, lovely intruder, a mere vision, an
aerial being that shuns the touch?" "I beg ten thousand pardons. I meaned
not, sir, to interrupt you. I will be gone." "No, go not." Answered he.
"Thou art welcome to my troubled thoughts. I could gaze for ever."
Saying this he rose and advancing towards her, seized her hand. "Be not
afraid," said he, "gentle fair one, my breast is a stranger to violence
and rudeness. I have felt the dart of love. Unhappy myself, I learn to
feel for others. But you are happy." As he said this, a tear unbidden
stole into the eye of Delia, and she wiped it away with the hand which was
disengaged from his. "And dost thou pity me," said he. "And does such
softness dwell within thy breast? If you knew the story of my woes, you
would have reason to pity me. I am in love to destraction, but I dare not
disclose my passion. I am banished from the presence of her I love. Ah,
cruel fate, I am entangled, inextricably entangled." "And how, sir," said
Delia, "can I serve you?" "Alas," said he, in no way.
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