Blessed be His name whose messages of peace
Not to the worldly or the proud are borne:
Whose light bids in the dungeon darkness cease,
Whose mercy clothes him whom the world has shorn.
Vain are the efforts of vindictive power,
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—
Earth’s gloom is lost in Heaven’s glorious light.
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