For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey,
His pleasing anxious liberty resign’d,
To Banco Regis bent his dreary way,
Nor cast one longing lingering look behind.
On some one out, the prisoner still relies,
Some one to yield him comfort, he requires;
E’en from the Bench the voice of nature cries,
E’en though imprison’d, glow our wonted fires.
For thee, who, mindful of the debtor’s doom,
Dost in these lines their hapless state relate;