You have already worn the martyr’s crown.
If there be in me just one spark of envy,
It is that I was not like you in gaol.
I envied you that most supreme distinction
Of living in the shadow of the cross
With all the sacred shades of martyred rebels,
A fellow worker of departed Christs.
NIGHTMARE
I had a dream, I had a horrid dream.
I dreamt that Byron travels for a house