Before thee all unveil’d—depart!
Few pangs ’twill cost thee now to fly
From one so stain’d, so lost as I;
Yet peace to thine untainted breast,
E’en though it hate me!—be thou blest!
Farewell! thou shalt not linger here—
E’en now th’ avenger may be near:
Where’er I turn, the foe, the snare,
The dagger, may be ambush’d there;
One hour—and haply all is o’er,