There Is A Bondage Worse, Far Worse, To Bear

THERE is a bondage worse, far worse, to bear Than his who breathes, by roof, and floor, and wall, Pent in, a Tyrant's solitary Thrall: 'Tis his who walks about in the open air, One of a Nation who, henceforth, must wear Their fetters in their souls. For who could be, Who, even the best, in such condition, free From self-reproach, reproach that he must share With Human-nature? Never be it ours To see the sun how brightly it will shine, And know that noble feelings, manly powers, Instead of gathering strength, must droop and pine; And earth with all her pleasant fruits and flowers Fade, and participate in man's decline.