New-jail

This is the house of misery supreme, Where sad misfortune bears the lash of blame, Where injur'd worth oft' finds the robbers doom Drags the great chain or meets the dungeon's gloom, Of friends bereft; to social converse lost— How very few are friends when wanted most, Robb'd of the air and Heav'n-surrounding light, To which with life all beings have a right, And bears beside the "whips and scorns" of fate, The proud man's censure & the mean one's hate.

Siez'd by some feelless creditor severe, See bor'n along the victim of despair, Torn from his friends, his wife, his children dear, While round they cling & drop the pleading tear; His faithful partner, tender, full of love, Tries every art the officers to move, But vain alas! are wife's and children's tears, The law-led monsters hence the father bears, Their lord, their master, sole support, their all, Now gone the helpless family must fall— Nor wife's solicitude nor children's charms Now heal his grief, nor fill his longing arms; No more the little prattlers climb his knee, No kind domestic transport does he see No social scene that softer charms impart, But mournful all that strike with grief th'heart, Dark gloomy grates that half admit the light, The clanking fetter horrid to the sight, The surly keeper, hard unpleasing fare,— All, all complete the measure of despair.