Press'd 'tween the pages, lured him onward still.
Now, a new echo in his heart was born,
And sometimes mid the weary task, and leer
Of felon faces, ere he was aware
From a compress'd unmurmuring lip, it broke,
O Lamb of God! If still unquell'd Despair
Thrust up a rebel standard, down it fell
At the o'er-powering sigh, O Lamb of God!
And ere upon his pallet low, he sank,