Page:Tales of my landlord (Volume 3).djvu/214

 O, if such clime thou canst endure, Yet keep thy hue unstained and pure, What conquest o'er each erring thought Of that fierce realm had Agnes wrought! I had not wandered wild 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 chace, To start, pursue, and bring to bay, Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey, Then—from the carcase 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!

As he finished reading these lines, Morton could not forbear reflecting with compassion on the fate of this singular and most unhappy being, who, it appeared, while in the lowest state of desperation, and almost of contempt, had his recollections