Her individual soul forbidden breathing place.
XVII.
Scarce other seemed that soul than sentient tomb
Of human energy debarred to bloom;
Her spirit, pining in its durance drear,
Leaves legacy of many a burning tear
For aspirations crushed, and aims denied,
And instincts thwarted by man’s purblind pride;
Her every wish made subject to the nod
Of him whose mad conceit proclaimed himself her God.