WHOSO would know the power of God’s dominion,
And how a man resembles that high good,
Must lie in prison, is my firm opinion:
On grievous thoughts and cares of home must brood, '
' Oppressed with carking pains in flesh and bone,
Far from his native land full many a rood.
If you would fain by worthy deeds be known,
Seek to be prisoned without cause, lie long, '
' And find no friend to listen to your moan.
See that men rob you of your all by wrong;
Add perils to your life; be used with force,
Hopeless of help, by brutal foes and strong. '
'Be driven at length to some mad desperate course;
Burst from your dungeon, leap the castle wall;
Recaptured, find the prison ten times worse.
'
'Now listen, Luca, to the best of all!
Your leg’s been broken; you’ve been bought and sold;
Your dungeon’s dripping; you’ve no cloak or shawl.
Never one friendly word; your victuals cold '
' Are brought with sorry news by some base groom
Of Prato-soldier now-druggist of old.
Mark well how Glory steeps her sons in gloom!
You have no seat to sit on, save the stool: '
' Yet were you active from your mother’s womb.
The knave who serves hath orders strict and cool
To list no word you utter, give you naught,
Scarcely to ope the door; such is their rule. '
'These toys hath Glory for her nursling wrought!
No paper, pens, ink, fire, or tools of steel,
To exercise the quick brain’s teeming thought.
'
'Alack that I so little can reveal!
Fancy one hundred for each separate ill:
Full space and place I’ve left for prison weal!
But now my former purpose to fulfil, '
' And sing the dungeon’s praise with honour due-
For this angelic tongues were scant of skill.