In Prison

Wearily, drearily,

Half the day long,

Flap the great banners

High over the stone;

Strangely and eerily

Sounds the wind's song,

Bending the banner-poles.

While, all alone,

Watching the loophole's spark,

Lie I, with life all dark,

Feet tether'd, hands fetter'd

Fast to the stone,

The grim walls, square-letter'd

With prison'd men's groan.

Still strain the banner-poles

Through the wind's song,

Westward the banner rolls

Over my wrong.