⁠In his most burning mood;
That love, which will the wicked greet
⁠As kindly as the good.

And he was noble too, who bowed
⁠So humbly by her side;
Entreating, till his eyes o'erflowed,
⁠Her spirits icy proud.

'Angelica, from my very birth
⁠I have been nursed in strife;
And lived upon this weary Earth
⁠A wanderer, all my life.

'The baited tiger could not be
⁠So much athirst for gore,
For men and laws have tortured me,
⁠Till I can bear no more.

'The guiltless blood upon my hands
⁠Will shut me out from heaven,
And here, and even in foreign lands,
⁠I cannot find a haven.

'And in all space and in all clime,
⁠And through eternity,
To aid a spirit lost in crime,
⁠I have no hope but thee.