Page:Cheskian Anthology.pdf/248



has caus'd me many days of mourning—

Yes! many days mourning from morn to eve,

And fate my grief to grief more gloomy turning—-

Flung worlds between us; therefore do I grieve

With deeper pang, and therefore bear a chain,

Whom heavy weight no patience can endure,

And like a froward infant weep in vain

O'er wounds that nought can soothe and nought can cure.

So midst these torments roll my life-days o'er,

And hope is dissipated all in dreams—

In Nebosh cells, and distant Dalibor;

Yet still I bear—unbending—fancy's schemes

Console me, and I kiss the chains she bound

My miserable helplessness around.