Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/274

 Clasp me close in thy strong arm;— Let us fly where summer's sun

Never more that plague shall bind me.

Ah, Brand, all is not yet won.

[Shaking his head.]

I have flung that dream behind me. Me no more that phantom-strife's Horror thrills;—but Life's! but Life's!

Life's?

Come, Agnes, where I lead!

Brand, what is it thou wilt do?

What I must: the dream make true,— Live the vision into deed.

Ha, thou canst not! Think but whither That road led thee.

Thither! Thither!

What thou dared'st, dream-beguiled, Wilt thou, whole and waking, dare?