Brand.
It was a blessed wind that blew
And thy heart's idol overthrew!
[Clasps her as if in dread.]
Peace be upon thee—and, through thee,
Peace also upon mine and me!
[Goes towards the side-door.
Agnes.
Brand, may I softly set ajar
One hateful window-barrier,—so?
Only a little? May I?
Brand.
[In the doorway.]
No.
[Goes into his room.
Agnes.
Closed, all closed with bolt and bar!
Seals on every passion set!
Seal'd to sorrow and to sigh,
Seal'd the grave and seal'd the sky,
Seal'd to feel—and to forget!
I will out! I gasp for breath
In this lonely house of death.
Out? Oh, whither? Angry eyes
Glare upon me from the skies!
Can I, flying, high or low,
Bear my treasure where I go?
Can I from my breast unsphere
The mute vacancy of fear?—
[Listens at Brand's door.]
Loud he reads, he cannot hear.
There's no comfort! There's no way
God is busy; lists to-day
