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49 The rulers or the slaves of law, Felt with a new surprise and awe That they were human, till strong shame Made them again become the same. The prison blood-hounds, huge and grim, From human looks the infection caught, And fondly crouched and fawned on him; And men have heard the prisoners say, Who in their rotting dungeons lay, That from that hour, throughout one day, The fierce despair and hate which kept Their trampled bosoms almost slept: When, like twin vultures, they hung feeding On each heart's wound, wide torn and bleeding, Because their jailors' rule, they thought, Grew merciful, like a parent's sway.

I know not how, but we were free: And Lionel sate alone with me, As the carriage drove thro' the streets apace; And we looked upon each other's face; And the blood in our fingers intertwined