Vain are its chains to bind a spirit down;
For that to Heaven in prayer can calmly soar
When earthly foes in utmost fury frown.
Death to the youthful is untimely wo—
Death to the happy is a fearful grief—
But weary age is not averse to go:—
The captive welcomes even death’s relief.
What then to him the frowning prison-walls—
The clanking chain, the tyrant’s vengeful spite?
From the freed spirit every shackle falls—