While life warms my breast, each his pow’r shall display,
And I’ll henceforth be loyal to both.
TO A
YOUNG MAN
UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH
FOR
FORGERY.
FROM HIS MISTRESS.
IN awful solitude, in direful chains,
Where deep despair and sad reflection reigns,
If yet thy breast another’s woes can feel,
Woes which no language ever can reveal,
Let the distresses of a hapless maid,
Be to thy silent gloomy cell convey’d.