WITH none to heed or mark <br />The prisoner in his cell, <br />In a dungeon, lone and dark, <br />He tuned his wild farewell. <br />The harp whose strings might never breathe again <br />The joyous sounds it gave to Freedom's strain, <br />With hurried chords, his trembling fingers woke; <br />And thus the brave, but captive rebel spoke :-- <br /> <br />Farewell! mine own dear land! <br />That I have loved thee well, <br />This faint, but blood-red hand, <br />These iron fetters tell: <br />And if I weep, it is not for the breeze, <br />At summer evenings whispered thro' the trees; <br />Though I would die to breathe that air again-- <br />I weep, to think upon my country's chain! <br /> <br />Farewell to those I loved, <br />Whom I no more shall see; <br />And, oh! in sorrow proved, <br />To those who once loved me, <br />With whom beneath the chesnut's spreading shade <br />In happy days of infancy, I played; <br />Who never more will hear the rebel's name <br />Without a blush, a crimson blush, of shame. <br /> <br />Oh! I am young to die, <br />Forsaken thus by all: <br />With none to hear me sigh, <br />With none to weep my fall. <br />How my heart yearns for joys for ever flown-- <br />My mother's hand--my sister's gentle tone! <br />And wishes wild within my bosom swell, <br />In sorrow's broken tones to bid farewell! <br /> <br />Land of untrodden hills! <br />Where still, in happy dreams, <br />I hear the mountain rills, <br />Leap forth in gushing streams: <br />I love thee so, that fearfully I shrink <br />From death, whose power will burst each galling link; <br />And sigh to live, though life no more be free, <br />Lest, in the grave, I dream no more of thee!<br /><br />Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-rebel-6/
