BEHIND THE BARS

I am a pilgrim far from home,

A wanderer like Mars,

And thought my wanderings ne'er should come,

So fixed behind the bars!

I left my sunny Southern home

Beneath the silver stars;

A northward path began to roam,

Not seeking prison bars.

I sought a higher, holier life,

Which never virtue mars;

But Fate had spun a net of strife

For me behind the bars!

My mother's lowly thatched-roofed cot

My nobler senses jars;

And so I seek to aid her lot,

But not behind the bars!

‘ Tis said, forsooth, the poet learns

Through sufferings and wars

To sing the song which deepest burns

Behind the prison bars!

Thus I resign myself to Fate,

Regardless of her scars;

For soon she'll open wide the gate

For me behind the bars.

I plead to you, my fellow man,

For all who wear the tars;

To lend what little help you can

To us behind the bars.

O God, I breathe my prayer to Thee,

Who never sinner bars:

Set each immortal spirit free

Behind these prison bars!