SEPARATION

A sworded man whose trade is blood,

In grief, in anger, and in fear,

Thro’ jungle, swamp, and torrent flood,

I seek the wealth you hold so dear!

The dazzling charm of outward form,

The power of gold, the pride of birth,

Have taken Woman's heart by storm —

Usurp'd the place of inward worth.

Is not true Love of higher price

Than outward Form, though fair to see,

Wealth's glittering fairy-dome of ice,

Or echo of proud ancestry?—

O! Asra, Asra! couldst thou see

Into the bottom of my heart,

There's such a mine of Love for thee,

As almost might supply desert!

( This separation is, alas!

Too great a punishment to bear;

O! take my life, or let me pass

That life, that happy life, with her! )

The perils, erst with steadfast eye

Encounter'd, now I shrink to see —

Oh! I have heart enough to die —

Not half enough to part from Thee!