These from the air its milder virtues drank,

Supplanting ichors, venemous and dank,

Whose essence deleterious, the while,

Exudes in savors and miasmas vile.

High on the wall, a double-grated slit

A slender ray of sunshine would admit

On pleasant mornings, when the sky was clear

From leaden fogs and hazy atmosphere.

A ray of sunlight, yes, a welcome ray,

A wholesome beam, but just too far away.