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Poem	For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten linger'd. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison: not to him Did Nature's fair varieties exist; He never saw the Sun's delightful beams, Save when thro' yon high bars it pour'd a sad And broken splendor. Dost thou ask his crime? He had rebell'd against the King, and sat In judgment on him; for his ardent mind Shaped goodliest plans of happiness on earth, And peace and liberty. Wild dreams! But such As PLATO lov'd; such as with holy zeal Our MILTON worshipp'd. Blessed hopes! awhile From man withheld, even to the latter days, When CHRIST shall come and all things be fulfill'd.
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