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Finished now the weary throbbing, Of a bosom calmed to rest; Laid aside the heavy sorrows, That for years upon it prest. All the thirst for pure affection, All the hunger of the heart; All the vain and tearful cryings, All forever now…

I exist, and yet of what avail am I; What poor human need leans on me?What aid am I to fellow weakness?The iron hoof of nations has trod upon me,As upon the worm that crawls the ground;But unlike the worm, I turn not crushed.The contumely, scorn,…
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