 | The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson |  |
LINES,
WRITTEN IN CARRICKFERGUS JAIL.
Many a tyrant, many a slave,
Pander, prostitute, and knave,
Coward base, and patriot brave,
Come trembling here;
Genius, idiot, dunce, and wit,
Men for this wild world unfit,
Sighing, thinking, starving sit
And drop a tear.
Pander, prostitute, and knave,
Coward base, and patriot brave,
Come trembling here;
Genius, idiot, dunce, and wit,
Men for this wild world unfit,
Sighing, thinking, starving sit
And drop a tear.
Here, perchance, some noble mind,
Amidst the dregs of human kind,
Roams states ideal, unconfin'd,
In misery—
Ev'n monarchs of our earthly ball,
With princes, prelates at their call,
What are they?—Wretched pris'ners all!
Whom death sets free!
Amidst the dregs of human kind,
Roams states ideal, unconfin'd,
In misery—
Ev'n monarchs of our earthly ball,
With princes, prelates at their call,
What are they?—Wretched pris'ners all!
Whom death sets free!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson | |