I have
The worst, the World can wreak on me--the
That can make Life indifferent, yet
With whisper'd Discontents the dying prayer--I have beheld the whole of all,
My Heart had any interest in this Life,
To be disrent and torn from off my
That nothing now is left.
Why then live on?
That Hostage, which the world had in it's
Given by me as a Pledge that I would live--That Hope of Her, say rather, that pure
In her fix'd Love, which held me to keep
With the Tyranny of Life--is gone ah! whither?
What boots it to reply? 'tis gone! and
Well may I break this Pact, this League of
That ties me to myself—and break I shall!
