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Lays of Leisure Hours

By The Lady E. Stuart Wortley

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THE ESCAPE.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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THE ESCAPE.

As the stream just freed from the iron frost,
As the banner free to the proud breeze tossed,
As the steed delivered from the yoke,
As the slave whose thrall is newly broke,
As the hawk, just stripped of the blinding hoot,
That soars at once in exulting mood
To the azure heights of the glorious sky,
With a wing as free as that unbound eye!

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So feel I now—thus at length set free—
Oh! Love! from thy ruthless tyranny!
As the bark, that 'scapes from the rush and roar
Of a stormy sea to a quiet shore;
As a rain-drop loosed from the sweeping cloud,
Which some flower's embracing leaves enshroud,
As the leaf of the Autumn that drifted far,
The sport of the winds in their howling war,
And that rests at length in some peaceful place,
From the headlong race—from the hurrying chase.
E'en so feel I now, thus set free at last
From the unrest and strife of the painful past,
And solaced, Love, from thy sufferings sore,
Which racked and tortured my soul before!
Oh! sweet it is when the wild storms cease,
And the Elements rest in lovely peace;
And happy it is when the strife is done,
When the battle thunders no longer stun,
When the conflict and all its pangs are o'er,
And dried are the crimsoned founts of gore,

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But sweeter and happier far 'tis still,
When the Soul escapes from Love's mortal ill,
When at length it wins a serene repose
From Passion's stormy and fiery woes,
And rests in a stillness the more profound,
For its wearying struggles and conflicts, bound
In thy fatal yoke—Oh! conquering Power!
Who seizest that Soul in an evil hour,
To vex it with sudden and strange alarms,
To turn 'gainst itself all its boasted arms,
Its proudest weapons of thought and will,
Oh! a sweeter and happier change 'tis still!
And I joy, dark Love, with a rapturous joy,
That thy power my Soul is strong to destroy,
That 'tis girded up to abjure thy sway,
And to dash thy chains and thy yoke away.
I joy, Oh! Love! to be now set free
From thy harsh and thy haughty tyranny!
And at once to be through one victory blessed,
With boundless freedom and cloudless rest!