Given sight of freedom

Through the graciousness of death.

Still am I a slave

In the hand of destiny,

Thought alone enslaved me

And thought alone can free.

{61}

{60}

WITHIN A WALL

Once in a time when skies were gray

I chanced to walk in a cloistered way,

I saw the ones who closed the door

On all the world had spread before.

Their eyes—that were closed to the joy of good,

They thought the God’s law they understood.

O Pity, Pity, for such as they

Who only look on skies of gray,

From cloistered windows sad of eye,

When all about is glorious sky.

It was but the tiny patch of gray,

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