Ye sick, diseased, ye barred of sight!
Oh! for a crevice in the wall,
To let one ray of moonlight in,
’Twould ease their hearts, and hope recall,
While they repented of their sin.
And restless, turning on his bed
The wasted form cries out with pain,
As raising up his fevered head,
Oh, God! that I were well again.
And oh, the blind! none feel for ye,