180
POEMS.
As one bright ray, from Hope's lone star,
Despair's dark night may cheer;
An angel in a sepulchre—
Like these thou seemest here.
Despair's dark night may cheer;
An angel in a sepulchre—
Like these thou seemest here.
When Spartan mothers taught their sons
A monster vice to spurn;
They showed the drunken Helot's shame,
And bade them wisdom learn:
In future years, O! be it thine
Temptation's voice to shun;
And in a palace thou mayest close
A life in prison begun.
A monster vice to spurn;
They showed the drunken Helot's shame,
And bade them wisdom learn:
In future years, O! be it thine
Temptation's voice to shun;
And in a palace thou mayest close
A life in prison begun.
The moonbeam gathers naught of stain
When resting on the earth;
Thus to the soul no taint need cling
Though low its place of birth:
And cradled in a gloomy cell,
The Prison-Born may wear
A crown, which some in palaces
Might humbly beg to share.
When resting on the earth;
Thus to the soul no taint need cling
Though low its place of birth:
And cradled in a gloomy cell,
The Prison-Born may wear
A crown, which some in palaces
Might humbly beg to share.
