652

A Prison gets to be a friend-
Between its Ponderous face
And Ours-a Kinsmanship express-
And in its narrow Eyes-

We come to look with gratitude
For the appointed Beam
It deal us-stated as our food-
And hungered for-the same-

We learn to know the Planks-
That answer to Our feet-
So miserable a sound-at first-
Nor ever now-so sweet-

As plashing in the Pools-
When Memory was a Boy-
But a Demurer Circuit-
A Geometric Joy-

The Posture of the Key
That interrupt the Day
To Our Endeavor-Not so real
The Check of Liberty-

As this Phantasm Steel-
Whose features-Day and Night-
Are present to us-as Our Own-
And as escapeless-quite-

The narrow Round-the Stint-
The slow exchange of Hope-
For something passiver-Content
Too steep for lookinp up-

The Liberty we knew
Avoided-like a Dream-
Too wide for any Night but Heaven-
If That-indeed-redeem-