And I must forget to speak or smile;
I shall go marching in[1170] and out,[1171]
One of a silent tramping file
Of felons, at morning, and noon, and night,
Just down to the shops[1172] and back to the cells,[1173]
And work with a thief at left[1174] and right,[1175]
And feed, and sleep, and—nothing else.[1176]
Was I born for this?[1177] Will the old folks know?
I can see them[1178] now on the old home-place;
His gait is feeble, his step is slow,