Samuel Taylor Coleridge — Separation

A sworded man whose trade is blood,        &nbspIn grief, in anger, and in fear, Thro' jungle, swamp, and torrent flood,        &nbspI seek the wealth you hold so dear! The dazzling charm of outward form,        &nbspThe power of gold, the pride of birth, Have taken Woman's heart by storm—        &nbspUsurp'd the place of inward worth. Is not true Love of higher price        &nbspThan outward Form, though fair to see, Wealth's glittering fairy-dome of ice,        &nbspOr echo of proud ancestry?— O! Asra, Asra! couldst thou see        &nbspInto the bottom of my heart, There's such a mine of Love for thee,        &nbspAs almost might supply desert! (This separation is, alas!        &nbspToo great a punishment to bear; O! take my life, or let me pass        &nbspThat life, that happy life, with her!) The perils, erst with steadfast eye        &nbspEncounter'd, now I shrink to see— Oh! I have heart enough to die—        &nbspNot half enough to part from Thee!