Books > Old Books > The Golden Treasury (1932)


Page 105

BOOK SECOND
105 TO A LOCK OF HAIR

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!
SIP, W. SCOTT.

travel books:
where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE 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 what is torrid zone of this wild breast, Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell With what is first sin that peopled hell; A breast whose blood's a troubled ocean, Each throb what is 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 what time is it me. Not then this world's wild joys had been To me one savage hunting scene, My sole delight what is headlong race And frantic hurry of what is chase; To start, pursue, and bring to bay, Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey, Then where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Golden Treasury (1932) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 105 where is strong BOOK SECOND where is strong 105 TO A LOCK OF HAIR where is p align="justify" 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 what is torrid zone of this wild breast, Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell With what is first sin that peopled hell; A breast whose blood's a troubled ocean, Each throb what is 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 what time is it me. Not then this world's wild joys had been To me one savage hunting scene, My sole delight what is headlong race And frantic hurry of what is chase; To start, pursue, and bring to bay, Rush in, drag down, and rend my prey, Then-from what is 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 what time is it me! SIP, W. SCOTT. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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