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Thy hue, dear
pledge, is pure and bright
As in that well -
remember'd night
When first thy mystic braid was
wove,
And first my Agnes whisper'd love.
Since
then how often hast thou prest
The torrid zone of
this wild breast,
Whose wrath and hate have sworn to
dwell
With the first sin that peopled hell;
A
breast whose blood's a troubled ocean,
Each throb the
earthquake's wild commotion!
O if such clime thou
canst endure
Yet keep thy hue unstain'd and pure,
What conquest o'er each erring thought
Of that fierce
realm had Agnes wrought!
I had not wander'd far and
wide
With such an angel for my guide;
Nor heaven
nor earth could then reprove me
If she had lived and
lived to love me.
Not then this world's wild joys
had been
To me one savage hunting scene,
My sole
delight the headlong race
And frantic hurry of the
chase;
To start, pursue, and bring to bay,
Rush
in, drag down, and rend my prey,
Then - from the
carcass turn away!
Mine ireful mood had sweetness
tamed,
And soothed each wound which pride inflamed: -
Yes, God and man might now approve me
If thou hadst
lived and lived to love me!
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