Page:Poems Sherwin.djvu/76

But soon too true she found the tale:
Collin indeed was sent to jail.
All words were vain and useless. None
Believed him innocent—not one.
Poor helpless woman! Whose kind care
Shall now thy daily bread prepare?
None will. Woe, want and sad disgrace
All stare thee rudely in the face.
Joy will no more to thee return;
Mourn, thou hast ample cause to mourn.

;Within a dark, damp noisome cell,
Five weeks was Collin made to dwell.
At first, o'erwhelm'd with bitter grief,
Tears came to bring him some relief,
Till calm reflection came, at length,
And seemed to give his reason strength.
His untaught mind, by nature strong,
Writhed 'neath oppression, baseness, wrong.
Deep feelings woke—dark thoughts arose,—
He deemed mankind were all his foes.
And felt, with scorn, revenge and shame,
He now must bear a felon's name.
One hope, though distant, gleamed around,
Still innocent he might be found.
A trial yet a chance would give,
And still in honour he may live.
In that one dreary hope alone,
He seemed to breathe and still live on.

 The day arrived,—a crowd was there;
Collin a prisoner at the bar,