PASSION
Some have won a wild delight,
By daring wilder sorrow;
Could I gain thy love to-night,
I'd hazard death to-morrow.
Could the battle-struggle
earn
One kind glance from thine
eye,
How this withering heart
would burn,
The heady fight to try!
Welcome nights of broken
sleep,
And days of carnage cold,
Could I deem that thou wouldst
weep
To hear my perils told.
Tell me, if with wandering
bands
I roam full far away,
Wilt thou to those distant
lands
In spirit ever stray?
Wild, long, a trumpet sounds
afar;
Bid me--bid me go
Where Seik and Briton meet
in war,
On Indian Sutlej's flow.
Blood has dyed the Sutlej's
waves
With scarlet stain, I know;
Indus' borders yawn with
graves,
Yet, command me go!
Though rank and high the
holocaust
Of nations steams to heaven,
Glad I'd join the death-doomed
host,
Were but the mandate given.
Passion's strength should
nerve my arm,
Its ardour stir my life,
Till human force to that
dread charm
Should yield and sink in
wild alarm,
Like trees to tempest-strife.
If, hot from war, I seek
thy love,
Darest thou turn aside?
Darest thou then my fire
reprove,
By scorn, and maddening
pride?
No--my will shall yet control
Thy will, so high and free,
And love shall tame that
haughty soul--
Yes--tenderest love
for me.
I'll read my triumph in thine
eyes,
Behold, and prove the change;
Then leave, perchance, my
noble prize,
Once more in arms to range.
I'd die when all the foam
is up,
The bright wine sparkling
high;
Nor wait till in the exhausted
cup
Life's dull dregs only lie.
Then Love thus crowned with
sweet reward,
Hope blest with fulness
large,
I'd mount the saddle, draw
the sword,
And perish in the charge! |
