Ope, jealous portal! ope thy cavern womb,
Thy pris’ner will not flee its close embrace;
He lived and moved too long within a tomb,
Beyond its narrow bounds to dream of space.
To eat his crust and muse, unvarying lot!
Thus, like his beard, his life slow length’ning grew;
So long shut out, the world the wretch forgot,
His cell his universe,—’twas all he knew.
For Memory soon with loving pinions wheeled
In circles narrowing each successive flight;