POEMS.
89
THE CAPTIVE.
A SCENE IN A PRIVATE MAD-HOUSE.
Stay, Gaoler, stay, and hear my woe!
She is not mad who kneels to thee,
For what I'm now too well I know,
And what I was, and what should be.
I'll rave no more in proud despair;
My language shall be mild, though sad:
But yet I'll firmly, truly swear,
I am not mad! I am not mad!
She is not mad who kneels to thee,
For what I'm now too well I know,
And what I was, and what should be.
I'll rave no more in proud despair;
My language shall be mild, though sad:
But yet I'll firmly, truly swear,
I am not mad! I am not mad!
