Agnes the Indian Captive. A Poem, in Four Cantos. With Other Poems. By the Rev. John Mitford |
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 | Agnes |  |
189
I.
[There came a beauteous image to my mind]
There came a beauteous image to my mind,That absent never since that hour has been;
Nor have I from that blessed moment seen
Aught else, to nature's works of glory blind.
Mild was the look to me it wore, and kind
The thoughts that from those eyes of lustre fell;
Here then, as in a temple, it shall dwell
In sanctity, and far from human kind.
190
All that my years of youth were wont to cheer;
The labour that I loved; the mind's free play;
And toil that seemed half sportive, half severe;
These shall farewell for ever, so I may
Hold that within my heart so loved and dear.
| Agnes | |