“Orrin de Wolf”

“Orrin de Wolf” By Mary Livermore Th e Hangman, 30 September 1845 Chainless blow the singing breezes, underneath the azure sky, Fetterless the bright bird’s pinion, winging upwards far and high: Reinless are the steeds of morning, bearing light o’er earth and sea, And the silvery waves are dancing, as they joyed in being free. But in yonder stifl ed prison, in the suff ocating cell, Where a sad and solemn dimness, and a fearful silence dwell, Sitteth one with eyelids drooping, with a pale and sunken face, And a brow, where sin and sorrow have burned in the fi ery trace. Walls, like adamant, enclose him, fetters hold him to the fl oor, And the free, God- given sunbeams may not pass the bolted door; E’en the breeze but bloweth faintly, when it entereth the cell, And escapeth through the gratings, frighted ’mid the gloom to dwell. All the night, amid the darkness, droppeth down his cheeks the tears, While upon his heart are thronging memories of bye- gone years: From his lips is wrung the anguish of a spirit- bleeding sigh, As he noteth every sun- rise, how his death- day draweth nigh. Brethren, are ye dealing Christ- like with http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Legacy University of Nebraska Press

“Orrin de Wolf”

Legacy, Volume 34 (2) – Dec 15, 2017

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Publisher
University of Nebraska Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2008 The University of Nebraska Press.
ISSN
1534-0643

Abstract

By Mary Livermore Th e Hangman, 30 September 1845 Chainless blow the singing breezes, underneath the azure sky, Fetterless the bright bird’s pinion, winging upwards far and high: Reinless are the steeds of morning, bearing light o’er earth and sea, And the silvery waves are dancing, as they joyed in being free. But in yonder stifl ed prison, in the suff ocating cell, Where a sad and solemn dimness, and a fearful silence dwell, Sitteth one with eyelids drooping, with a pale and sunken face, And a brow, where sin and sorrow have burned in the fi ery trace. Walls, like adamant, enclose him, fetters hold him to the fl oor, And the free, God- given sunbeams may not pass the bolted door; E’en the breeze but bloweth faintly, when it entereth the cell, And escapeth through the gratings, frighted ’mid the gloom to dwell. All the night, amid the darkness, droppeth down his cheeks the tears, While upon his heart are thronging memories of bye- gone years: From his lips is wrung the anguish of a spirit- bleeding sigh, As he noteth every sun- rise, how his death- day draweth nigh. Brethren, are ye dealing Christ- like with

Journal

LegacyUniversity of Nebraska Press

Published: Dec 15, 2017

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