Lines To My Cell.
Reading edition
Oh, silent and mysterious cell, Could I command thy walls to tell
The secrets they have kept so long, 'T would be, indeed, a cheerless song.
A tale of crime, and tears, and pain, The fruit, perhaps, of frenzied brain,
As none to crime yet ever sank That had not first become a crank.
"The law of God and man defy, A wretch you'll live, a felon die!"
These words seem to haunt my brain, Perhaps it is the sad refrain
Of a song well known to thee; Yet where its author now can be,
Save thee, perhaps no one can tell, Thou grim, mysterious, silent cell.
Thy rocky floor has felt the tread Of many a hapless one now dead;
Thy walls have echoed many a sigh, Wrung from guilt's expiring eye.
While musing 'mid thy walls tonight I seem to hear, with some affright,
The wail of many a blighted life, The prayer of a despairing wife;
A mother, weeping for her child; A father, grief has driven wild.
And then—I pray thee silence keep; 'Twere best to let thy secrets sleep.
