  Always the heavy air, The dreadful cage, the low Murmur of voices, where Some Force goes to and fro In an immense despair! As through a haunted brain— With tireless footfalls The Obsession moves again, Trying the floor, the walls, Forever, but in vain. In vain, proud Force! A might, Shrewder than yours, did spin Around your rage that bright Prison of steel, wherein You pace for my delight. And O, my heart, what Doom, What warier Will has wrought The cage, within whose room Paces your burning thought, For the delight of Whom? publisher's logo
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