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37

238   O Christ ! This is mastering me!
Through the conquer'd doors they crowd. I am      possess'd.
239  I embody all presences outlaw'd or suffering;
See myself in prison shaped like another man,
And feel the dull unintermitted pain.
240  For me the keepers of convicts shoulder their ear-     bines and keep watch;
It is I let out in the morning, and barr'd at night.
241  Not a mutineer walks handcuff'd to jail, but I am      handcuff'd to him and walk by his side;
(I am less the jolly one there, and more the silent one,      with sweat on my twitching lips.)

74

242   Not a youngster is taken for larceny, but I go up too,      and am tried and sentenced.
243  Not a cholera patient lies at the last gasp, but I also      lie at the last gasp;
My face is ash-color'd — my sinews gnarl — away from      me people retreat.
244  Askers embody themselves in me, and I am embo-     died in them;
I project my hat, sit shame-faced, and beg.