THE hopes that allured me <br /> To cope with the worst, <br />At length have secured me <br /> The tortures accurst, <br /> Of fever and grief, <br /> And frenzy—in brief <br />Ills—ills from which Death is the only relief. <br /> <br /> <br />But Titan-like lieth <br /> My soul in her chains— <br />Hourly she sigheth, <br /> The answer she gains, <br /> But adds night and day <br /> To pain and dismay— <br />'Tis the scream of the vulture despair at his prey.<br /><br />Joseph Skipsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stanzas-26/
