Your gained possession is not your own:

The purple hems

Of your silk-robed neighbor,

The crape, the gems,

And the yoke of labor,

Lo, other mortals their folds adorn,

On other shoulders their loads are borne!

[Pg 27]

You have arrived, you shall part in pity;

You have not here either house or home.

You soon shall dwell in that narrow city,

Where sun and moon never lit the dome;

Where crest and foil

At the gate shall crumble—

And, from his toil,

Be released the humble;

Where captives' fetters, and love's sweet band,

Shall, fragile, break by the same strong hand.

[Pg 28]

Where is your wife, and where is your mother?—

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