So let me die with prayer upon my lips,
And like old Israel’s stricken one, pull down
A glorious desolation in my fall!
Wild are my thoughts, oh God!
And wilder still the passionate heart that beats
With a fallen angel’s power. There liveth not
Among earth’s myriads, a more restless spirit,
So formed for good or ill!
I have been gentle,
Loving and kind to all. My curse has been