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<p><unclear>Pain</unclear> 21/7/1821</p> | <p><unclear>Pain</unclear> 21/7/1821</p> | ||
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Tis scarcely perhaps both unwise & useless – I confess
To give such Spirit-stirring feelings vent:
With tyrants who reform not – nor repent
'Tis but a waste of words, to ask redress
For wrongs, which long with inward bitterness
Our Spirits have endured; – for we are bent
Down by the chains of bondage – & have lent
Our silent Souls to the infamous yoke – And now distress
And disappointment, – & awakened sense
Of our own depradation – speak in vain –
Slaves as we – Slaves we ever must remain –
Trampled upon by privileged insolence –
Our Sun is set – it will not rise again
And night reigns in its dark omnipotence
Pain 21/7/1821
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sir john bowring |
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