IX

It soothed the weary hours of toil,

It brought forgetfulness to debtors;

Time and again from wretched men

It struck oppression's galling fetters.

X

No man could hear its voice, and hate;

It stayed the teardrop at its portal;

With that dear thing I was a king

As never yet was monarch mortal!

A Little Book of Western Verse · 第 50 / 101 题