Treachery And Violence Are Spears

Tis Moonlight, Summer Moonlight, All Soft And Still And Fair; The Solemn Hour Of Midnight Breathes Sweet Thoughts Everywhere, But Most Where Trees Are Sending Their Breezy Boughs On High, Or Stooping Low Are Lending A Shelter From The Sky. And There In Those Wild Bowers A Lovely Form Is Laid; Green Grass And Dew-steeped Flowers Wave Gently Round Her Head.

Still Let My Tyrants Know, I Am Not Doomed To Wear Year After Year In Gloom, And Desolate Despair; A Messenger Of Hope Comes Every Night To Me, And Offers For Short Life, Eternal Liberty.

You Have Been Compelled To Cultivate Your Reflective Faculties, For Want Of Occasions For Frittering Your Life Away In Silly Trifles.

I Lingered Round Them, Under That Benign Sky; Watched The Moths Fluttering Among The Heath And Hare-bells; Listened To The Soft Wind Breathing Through The Grass; And Wondered How Anyone Could Ever Imagine Unquiet Slumbers For The Sleepers In That Quiet Earth.

You Must Forgive Me, For I Struggled Only For You.