Agnes.
Shiver'd, shatter'd—pluck'd away—
All that bound me to the clay.
[Stands a while motionless; by degrees her
face assumes an expression of radiant
gladness. Brand returns; she flies joyously
towards him, flings herself about his
neck, and cries.]
I am free, Brand, I am free!
Brand.
Agnes!
Agnes.
Night is fled from me!
All the terrors that oppress'd
Like an incubus my breast,
In the gulf are sunk to rest!
Will hath conquer'd in the fray,
Cloud and mist are swept away;
Through the night, athwart the Dead,
Streaks of morning glimmer red.
Graveyard! Graveyard! By the word
Now no more a tear is stirr'd;
By the name no wound is riven,
Risen is the child to heaven!
Brand.
Agnes! Thou hast conquered now
Agnes.
I indeed have conquer'd. Yes;
Conquer'd death and bitterness!
Oh, look up, look heavenward, thou
See, before the throne he stands—
As in old days—radiant, glad,
