I sought a letter'd stone, on which my tears
Had fall'n like thunder-rain, in other years,
My mother's grave I sought, in my despair,
But found it not! our grave-stone was not there!
No we were fallen men, mere workhouse slaves,
And how could fallen men have names or graves?
I thought of sorrow in the wilderness,
And death in solitude, and pitiless
Interment in the tiger's hideous maw:
I pray'd, and, praying, turn'd from all I saw;